Stranded With Dinosaurs
by FrogsRcool
Summary: The title kind of tells all. After Nationals the Glee plane crashes on an island -  Los dios de meurtos! . I'm going to try to stick true to the characters and I promise this story will be fun! Also filled with Brittana!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Here's my second fanfic...It's actually kind of a challenge for me. How realistic can I make this? Even though this probably would never happen, I want to keep true to the characters and use their past. Please let me know what you think. I also decided to keep the rating at M, seeing as how I'm sure some Brittana moment will justify that. ;)**

**Also, This is totally something different from my story "Must Be Felt". It's going to include a little more character action, and obviously it doesn't follow along with each episode. And it's Santana's POV**

**Review. Enjoy ;)**

**Chapter 1 : Nine out of Thirteen**

It started out slow. The same pace the first time I kissed Brittany. It was almost surreal, like I wasn't even in my body. That had to be it. Oh shit. _So I died?_ That can't be it either, because I can feel things against my skin. I'm not exactly sure what's touching me, but I know something is.

There's pressure against my stomach and something scratchy pushing itself into my cheek. Scratchy minuscule grains were branding into the right side of my face. And the other side of my other face felt hot, humid, almost clammy. If I were to place my palm against my forehead, I'm positive that the skin would be sticky with sweat.

Okay. So I'm piecing things together. I have to be lying on my stomach with my face turned to one side. That's why I can feel my ribs pressing into my lungs and my cheek slightly flatten against a surface. Whatever I was lying on was exerting the same force as one of those stiff cots Sue sometimes forced us to sleep in for an overnighter in the gym. That's another thing I'll have to add to the long list of _Why I Hated Cheerios and Reasons I Left. _But the surface I was on wasn't soft like a cot. _So what was it?_

I wanted to move my hand up to my face and wipe my eyes, but my arms were too heavy…Unless I don't have arms. _Shit. _If I could panic, now would be the time. But I was still stuck in an awkward dreamlike limbo. My mind was awake, but my body hadn't quite decided it was time. So, maybe this was a nightmare. I've had plenty of those. I'll _wake _up, only to find that I never actually woke up. And then I keep repeating the process, repeating the nightmare, and thinking that each time I've woken up, until finally I fall off my bed or smack my nightstand with a flailing hand.

Something swallowed my lips. It was ice cold, or maybe my body thought it was, because I was sweating. The gush of coldness flooded my neck and ran up behind my ear. That's when I realized the rest of my body was starting to get cold. Or maybe it was already cold and I was just now noticing.

But the coldness left, just as quickly as it had set on. It left a salty chill in my mouth. I could taste it on the corners of my lips. _Salt? _That didn't seem right, unless I was being dipped into a salty milkshake and I highly doubted that was the case.

And it returned again. I felt the liquid chill crawl through my socks, creep up my legs, squeeze between my thighs, and slide up my back. Again it touched my lips, but didn't stop. The coldness entered my mouth and seeped down my lungs. It pushed into my nose and burnt. And when it rolled over my eyes it snapped them open, as if it had switched a light switch.

An abstract blur fogged my eyes. I quickly snapped them shut to protect against the burning-cold liquid and my chest insintcually started to force the cold liquid out of my lungs. Before I had time to relish in the fact that my body was working, I was scurrying across the ground on all fours, and away from whatever was drowining me. My knees sunk with each crawl, and my hands slipped every time I tried to find a stable grip.

I'm not exactly sure how far I scurried away, or even if I was scurrying in a safe direction, but I stopped myself eventually. And when I stopped I was perched on my knees. But my body was still too heavy and I was forced to sink down and rest my butt on the back of my calves.

I tried to ease my coughing, but my body was still rejecting the liquid that had crawled into my throat. My nose was stinging, and my eyes were drenched with salt and liquid. I used the back of my forearm and tried to wipe my eyes dry.

Again that same scratchy feeling that had been digging into my cheek earlier, dragged across my eyelids and the bridge of my nose. I jerked my arm away once I realized I was causing pain to myself. This time, slowly and carefully, I moved my fingertips up to my eyes and removed the water and tough pieces of grain.

I opened my eyes and was face to face with a steep, sandy, ledge. It swooped upward above my head, and crawled back into a forest of trees.

So I was on a beach. That made absolutely no sense. But this wasn't a dream, because I could still feel my eyes smoldering and begging to be shut. And even though my vision was still a little blurry, I know what I can see and I know the difference between dream-sand and real-life-sand. Sand. Lots of sand, leading into lots of trees.

I twisted my head around quickly to see what I had crawled away from. The motion pushed me into a flimsy stage of vertigo, in which I closed my eyes to stop. When I opened them again, my neck still craned to look behind me, I saw waves tiptoeing up the sand and leaving a definitive wet edge along the beach. I saw the imprint from my body being slowly yanked back into the ocean, and I could even make out small bits of sea shell.

But the longer I stared at the sea shell, the more I started to wonder if they were really shells. _I mean, aren't shells supposed to be tiny?_ Either I was on a beach with humongous crabs or those weren't shells.

I turned back around to face the forest of trees. Maybe forest isn't the right word, because these trees were tropical. Palm, eucalyptus, mango, and the list could go on.

I went to clench my fists but felt that familiar grainy-scratch run in between my fingers. I looked down to see my hands were covered in sand, and that sand ran up my arms. The beige grain was everywhere, all over me. All over my thighs, sweatshirt, and I'm sure in my hair. I began to swat it off, but stopped once I realized I wasn't getting rid of any, I was just moving it to different parts of my body.

Sweatshirt. Ugh. It's way too hot for a sweatshirt. I felt the sun tanning my thighs, and maybe by this point I was beginning to burn. I never burn, but then again I've never been passed out on some random beach for God knows how long.

For a brief second I thought someone called my name. That had to be a mirage. Soon enough I'm going to start seeing swimming pools and Brittany floating naked on a floatie inside those imaginary swimming pools.

Brittany! Wait. _What the hell is going on here? Is she here?_

"Santana." The voice was real this time. Or seemed real.

I turned my head to the left and saw someone sprinting through the sand. I didn't move , or try to get up. If anything, I felt uncomfortable with the amount of panic this person was expressing in the calling of my name.

"Santana!" They yelled again, but this time panic was replaced with joy.

It was Sam. His cargo shorts were covered in sand and his grey t-shirt was drenched with sweat. Even his blonde-Beiber hair was sticking to his forehead.

He jumped down to his knees right in front of me and firmly grasped both sides of my shoulders. That goofy grin that he always gave people when they did something worthwhile of a _goofy grin_ was plastered across his face. I've only witness him give the _grin_ to others, but never knew what it took to earn one myself. Apparently it takes waking up in the middle of an abandoned beach.

Again he did something uncharacteristic. He pulled me into a smothering hug. His chest pushed into my face and his arms wrapped around my back. We sat like that for awhile. Both on our knees, and him suffocating me with an unwarranting bear hug.

"I can't believe I found you." He whispered into my hair.

I wanted to pull back and get an explanation from him, for his crazy-ass behavior, but he refused to let me go. "Whht th hl." I mumbled into his sweat covered shirt.

"Sorry." He let go once he realized his hug wasn't giving me any room to breathe. But he didn't let go of my shoulders. "Are you okay?" His eyes darted from mine and examined my face. I couldn't help feeling suddenly and unexpectedly self-conscious. _Was I sweating as much as him? _

His eyes faltered on what looked to be my temple. His lips pursed and his hand slowly drifted from my shoulder until his finger tips were inches away from the side of my face.

"That looks pretty bad. I think the guys found a first aid kit." His fingers continued to float above my skin.

"Whh." The words came out dry and scratched my throat. I swallowed a healthy gulp of spit. "What looks bad? What are you talking about?" I slapped my head up to the wound-in-question and let out a shriek of pain. It felt like someone had dug a screwdriver into a gashing wound I had on the side of my head.

"Stop!" His hands grabbed my wrist, but he was too late. "Careful." He pulled my hand away from my face.

Tears dropped down from my eyes. I could feel them. They were fat and full of stinging pain. Soon accompanying gasps caught up to the tears.

"What the hell is going on?" I managed to squeak in between a huff of air.

He looked lost. I could tell he was trying to find an answer that wouldn't freak me out, and I could tell he was just as confused as I was.

"Do you remember what happened?" His eyes looked past me and over my shoulder. I watched as his body jumped back and his eyebrows lifted. "Wow. I can't believe parts of the plane made it all the way out here. Did you land here?" His eyes were wide as he gestured toward the strip of beach behind me.

"Plane?" I hadn't really listened to anything after he said that word. I turned back around and examined those _sea-shells. _A plane?

"You must have hit the water. That's what happened to Quinn, but she landed closer to us." His eyes again returned to examining me. "Your sweatshirts dry." He nodded. "Makes sense, I mean you were out here for almost four hours. You probably washed up on shore."

"Washed up?" My hand patted against my sweatshirt. It was dry and even hot to the touch.

He held his breath and finally decided to give a proper explanation. "The plane crashed. On our way back from Nationals. I'm not really sure why or how, or what we were even doing over an island…" He stopped and tucked his lips into his mouth.

"But where's all the other people. There was like two-hundred people on that plane." I looked everywhere, but Sam and me were the only ones within sight.

"No Santana." His eyes narrowed. "We took a private plane back remember? It was supposed to be a layover."

"Oh right." The memory rushed back. The airport had cancelled our original flight and when Mr. Shuester, Quinn, and Rachel insisted that we had to be back for classes, the airport told us we could fly out of state on a private plane. "Yeah. Yeah I remember."

We both sat again in silence. I could feel my sweat building up and stacking over old sweat. At least I was wearing shorts. I had originally been wearing sweats, but Brittany let me borrow an pair of her _Wolverine_ boxers to wear on the plane after I had complained about being too hot.

"Brittany!" My chest tightened. "Where's she? Where's everyone? Is everyone okay." I slapped Sam's hand off my shoulder and bolted up. My escape was quickly halted once my knees gave out and I plummeted back into the hot sand.

"Santana." He dashed on his knees toward me and grabbed my shoulders again. "It's okay. She's fine."

My sigh of relief only halfway let out. "And everyone else?"

"…We couldn't find everyone." He gulped. "But back at camp there's most of the guys." He gulped again. "Me, Puck, Finn." He stopped.

"That's only half of the guys." I snapped.

He shrugged. "But Brittany's there. She actually swam out to help Quinn. And Tina and Mercedes are there too. Oh and Rachel."

"Lauren?" I asked due the absence of her name.

He shook his head _no. _

I had to hold back tears. I already felt dumb enough for crying earlier, and I still was in shock at everything. This just didn't seem real. I would have thought someone was playing a joke on us, if it weren't for the pounding gash on the side of my head and the honest panic in Sam's eyes.

"Let's take you back. The girls will be happy. I know Brittany and Quinn specifically were on mission to find you, and everyone else of course." He stood up. "Do you think you can stand?"

He answered his own question when he bent over and swooped me up into his arms. It hadn't been that long ago that I dated him, and I'd forgotten how strong he was and how easily he could lift me.

In any other normal circumstance I would have fought him off, but I didn't object to him carrying me. Truth be told, I don't think I could have walked anywhere. My head hurt too badly, my legs were weak, and I was dehydrated. So I nestled into his drenched chest and closed my eyes. The coolness of his sweat felt good against my blistering skin.

My body slumped and relaxed. I would rock with each step he took, but that didn't bother me. It was comforting and reminded me that I was still awake and not having a stroke. He moved upward, and he grunted. Probably from climbing that ledge. I wanted to open my eyes, I felt guilty for weighing him down, but I couldn't bring myself to do it.

After what had to be a half an hour he leaned his head down and spoke into my ear. "We're almost there. Are you awake?"

"Mmm." I opened my eyes again to be barraged with blurry abstract vision. But I quickly cleared it as my adrenaline rose. I wanted to know how other people were reacting to this.

There was a huge metal plane carcass pressed against a tree. It was cracked and revealed a row of seats that should never be visible from the outside of the plane.

"Guys." Sam's voice vibrated through my body. "I found someone."

I could hear a bustle within the plane and saw two figures emerge. They halted and froze once they jumped from the plane.

"Oh my God!" Quinn gasped and slapped her hands over her mouth.

The blonde next to her dropped her jaw and her eyes widened. She grabbed Quinn's wrist and yanked her toward us.

"Is she okay?" Quinn asked when they reached us.

Brittany caught my eyes and smiled finally. She dropped Quinns hand and grabbed my dangling one. "Santana!" She bent over and wrapped her other arm around my neck. I was immediately nuzzled into her neck. She too was sweaty. I could smell the saltiness on her skin. "I was so worried. I can't believe you're okay." She held back a sob. "I looked everywhere. Me and Quinn just got back. We needed water." I tried to comfort her and press a hidden kiss against her neck, but I was too weak.

"Water!" Quinn yelled and interrupted us. "Sam set her down in the shade. She's probably dehydrated. Where'd you find her?"

Sam listened and walked me over to the plane. His body jostled as he climbed through the cracked siding. His arms lifted and twisted me around until I was laying flat across a row of three seats. I guess someone had removed the arm rests. The entire time Brittany was close by my side darting around Sam's body, always making sure to keep an eye on me.

The leather felt good against my back. It was soft and cool. Brittany's hand returned to mine once Sam stepped back. "I found her out along the beach. I think she may have landed in the water and was washed up on shore." He repeated the same words he had said to me earlier. "She had to have been lying in the sun for quite some time." He walked away and started digging through a bag with Quinn.

"Take this off." Brittany's hands grabbed the bottom of my sweatshirt and pulled at it. I shuffled around until she was able to squirm it off.

I let out a heavy lungful of air the instant it was off and I felt my body temperature quickly cool.

"Do we have fan?" Brittany turned around and asked both Sam and Quinn. "She's too hot. She needs a fan." Brittany turned back to me and began waving her hands in my face.

Quinn walked over with a bottle of water in her hand. "Here." She kneeled down next to Brittany. "Drink this slowly." And instead of handing me the bottle she tilted it for me to drink.

Two gulps and the water that initially had cooled my throat started to sting again. I reached for the bottle wanting to stop the burning, but Quinn jerked it away. "Drink it slow Santana or you'll get sick."

I nodded and she again held the bottle out for me to drink another gulp.

"Okay. We need to fix that cut on your head. I don't really know how to sew, but maybe you don't need stitches." Her hand pressed against my cheek and turned the my temple towards her. She cringed. "Maybe someone knows how to sew." Her fingertips brushed against the edge of the cut. "I'll clean it though. I can do that." Quinn stood and walked back to the bag that Sam was still digging through.

Brittany squeezed my hand and scooted closer. "If I were to pick one person to be stranded on an island with, it would be you." She smiled. I knew she was trying to cheer me up, lighten the mood.

"Me too." The voice that came out of my throat was scratchy again.

"I'm so glad you're okay. And I'm sorry I didn't find you sooner." Her lips pouted and I saw her eyes begin to water.

"No." I rasped. "It's okay." I tried to squeeze her hand back, but I was getting too tired and too weak. "You would have found me eventually. It's not your fault."

She just nodded and wiped away a stray tear with her wrist.

I closed my eyes.

XXXxxxxxXXXXXxx

"This is ludicrous. We can't expect to be found." The voice woke me up with a jolt.

I shuffled around, expecting to be in my bed, maybe in the plane on the way back from Nationals, but instead I was laying across three seats and Brittany sitting on the floor next to me with her hands firmly clasping around my own hand.

"You're awake." Brittany whispred.

Everything. Sam. The beach. It all came rushing back. And along with the memories came a sting on the side of my head. It wasn't as sharp as before, but I constant dull ache seemed to follow.

"I'm awake." My voice was still raspy.

I looked around. It was darker than before, but still daylight. It was also dramatically cooler. That had to be a combination of me not having my sweatshirt, being in the shade, and it being later in the day.

Brittany climbed up onto her knees and peered over me. Her hand traced along the side of my cheek and her eyes honed into the side of my face. "Looks good." She smiled. "Do you feel good?"

I moved my hand slowly up to my temple, this time fully aware of my wound, and careful not to slap it. My fingers stopped once they touched latex. A small butterfly bandage ran across the cut and I felt threads tickle my fingers. "How could that possibly look good?" I carefully glided my fingers across the sewn cut. "I feel like Frankenstein."

"Well." Brittany sighed, but smiled. "You don't look like Frankenstein."

"We could find a building in the middle of the island. And for all we know a lighthouse could be on the other side." That same voice that had woke me up echoed from outside the plane.

"Who's yelling?" I flinched from the loud noise.

"It's Rachel. I told her to be quiet earlier, but she didn't listen." Brittany pursed her lips. "Do you want to go outside?"

I nodded.

Her hands wrapped around my calves and carefully swung them over the edge of the seats. As my body twisted I lifted my head. When I found I was too weak to lift myself entirely, she snapped her hand behind my back and helped me up the rest of the way. I used my hands to firmly grasp onto the ledge and keep myself steadied and Brittany kept a strict eye on my wavering.

She stood up and held her hands out for me. "Come on. Let's see if we can get food." Her hands stroked up and down my thighs.

I slipped my hands into hers and she helped me up. It was easier than I expected and I was glad I had waited to stand up until my dizziness had completely subsided.

We crept through the empty plane carcass until we reached the crack that led outside. Brittany let go of my hand, waited until I steadied and leapt the three-foot drop down the ground.

I hadn't acknowledged anyone, but they must have seen me and Brittany because Finn's hands were around my waist and he was helping me down. The jump was easy when he guided my fall.

His hands released from my hips and he moved back to Rachel.

I looked around and saw everyone was sitting in a small half circle, except for Finn and Rachel who were standing. Sam and Quinn were sitting on top of a small cooler and Tina, Mercedes, and Puck were sitting on the ground digging through the foliage.

Puck shot up and grabbed a broken seat that was leaning against the plane. He returned and set it behind me. "Here." He grabbed my forearms and slowly led me down into the seat.

It felt weird having everyone treat me like this, regardless of the extreme circumstance. Everyone was acting protective and nurturing, and the only one who had always treated me like this was Brittany.

"How come you guys didn't do this before I had a gaping head wound?" I let the humor roll of my tongue.

"There are many reasons." Rachel crossed her arms over her chest.

"Rachel, stop." Quinn demanded.

"Maybe if you hadn't attacked me after we lost at Nationals, and insult me every chance you get, I would respect you a little more." Rachel ignored Quinn.

"Oh please." I rolled my eyes. "It's not my fault you look like the Sasquatch who lost his beef jerky."

"Guys." Quinn interrupted. "Now isn't the time."

"I'm just glad that you're still sassy-Santana." Mercedes spoke up. "And that crash didn't do any brain damage."

I exchanged a smile with Mercedes.

Rachel scoffed and continued. "Okay. So here's the plan. We'll split up. It's the best chance we have at finding everyone, and finding a way off of this island. Santana was lucky Tina was willing to sew her up, but who knows how we'll fair if someone returns to us with an even more severe injury."

"Hold up." I interrupted. "We're on an island?"

Sam looked toward me, and I suddenly remembered him explaining that earlier.

"Are we sure it's not attached. Like Florida?" Brittany echoed my question.

"It's not attached." Rachel answered. "We-"

"Hold up again." I said. "This may be the dumb question but why can't we just call someone?"

Everyone exchanged looks with one another. I couldn't tell if they thought I was stupid for asking, or if they were stupid for not thinking about it.

Tina offered an explanation. "We don't know where they went. The pilot said we had to stow them away with luggage since the plane was so small. And he made us turn them off so they didn't scare him when they rang and send him spiraling into the ground." Her tone was monotonic and sad, and I knew it was because Mike wasn't sitting next to her.

It looked like everyone had given up at that point. Their shoulders were sagging and nobody was making eye contact.

"What if we build a raft and float out into the ocean. It'd probably be easier if _Wilson_ was helping us, but I think we can do it." Brittany suggested. I was glad she hadn't given up.

"That was unrealistic and dangerous." Rachel barked. "Tom Hanks is a lucky man. And we are not that desperate at this point." She paced back and forth. "We'll be fine. We just need to avoid that alligator thing and we'll be fine."

"What?" Almost everyone said in unison.

Rachel eyed us all. Obviously she hadn't meant to say that. "I-It's nothing…" She turned her back to us, but then turned back around. "I just saw…an alligator thing crawl out into the ocean."

"Like a komodo dragon?" Mercedes asked.

"Like Godzilla?" Brittany also asked. "Or Sue?"

"No. And definitely not." Rachel answered. "Somewhere in between."

"Are you shitting me Berry?" I tried to find the ocean, but we were too far into the thick of the trees. "When were you planning on telling us this?"

"It's not a big deal." She shrugged. "And I didn't want to freak you guys out."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: HEELLLLLOOOO! I love writing this. It's so easy and fun. :) Please leave a review! Let me know what you think! Enjoy :)**

**Chapter 2 - Head Trauma**

I was an idiot to think that the dull pain aching through my skull wouldn't intensify. It feels like an entire beehive is buzzing in and out of my wound and making it a point to sting every inch of my face. The skin on my cheeks was numb to the touch and still managed to tingled with a constant twinge.

"Here I found these." Brittany grabbed my hand and held my palm open. I was sitting against a log in the dark. Everyone else was asleep, or at least trying to sleep inside the plane. I just couldn't stand laying in the dark any longer trying to hide my pain. So I stumbled out from the plane, tripped when I jumped down, and crawled over to a log.

I'd only been outside for maybe five minutes until Brittany realized I was missing. She came out of the plane to find me silently crying and begging for my head to stop hurting. When she walked over and saw me talking to myself she promised she would help and scurried off to find medicine.

She tore open a small package of _Advil. _The same packages that come with first-aid kits. The rough pills bounced on top of my palm and I curled them into my fist.

"Take them." She encouraged me and untwisted the lid from a small water bottle.

I shook my head. If I couldn't even keep my eyes open, how was I supposed to swallow these pills? It's like the pain knew if it caused my entire body to throb then I wouldn't have the strength to swallow medication and get rid of it.

"They'll help. Santana." Brittany grabbed my balled up fist. "Please take them." My eyes were still closed but I felt her scoot closer to me.

I was sitting on my butt with my legs straight out in front of me. Brittany was right next to my side and her voice talked and slapped against the skin of my face. I could feel the burning touch her hand left on my own hand as she squeezed. It felt like she was pinching my knuckles in between a vice grip and they were about to explode any minute. Of course, I'm sure the delusional pain in my skull has something to do with my hypersensitive nerves.

More for her, than for my out betterment, I lifted my hand out from her grasp and pushed the pills into my mouth. They stuck to my tongue and I felt the chalky taste consume my mouth. I panicked and reached for the water bottle, but it was too late. I coughed, gagged, and the pills dropped from my mouth.

The slobbery _Advil _hit my lap. And I would have opened my eyes, but a coughing fit consumed me. I was choking on the spit that my mouth had produced in order to destroy the dryness of the pills. A hand, I'm sure Brittany's, started to rub my back.

"You're okay." Brittany cooed. Her hand pushed hard against my back and tried to massage the pain away.

I felt tears watering and welling up in my eyes as I coughed. It was frustrating. Everything was frustrating. I just didn't understand what was going on. How the hell did we get on this island and why is nobody else here? Where is everyone else? Why can't this pain just go away?

"What's going on?" I heard someone other than Brittany approaching.

Someone sat on the other side of me, and a hand joined Brittany's on my back.

"Hey Quinn. She's having a hard time swallowing medicine." Brittany's fingers picked up the pills from my lap. "Should we mush them up? One time I chewed a pill and it burned my mouth really bad."

"No. We don't want her to get sick." Quinn responded. It felt weird having them talk like I wasn't there. And I guess I really wasn't there. I wasn't even strong enough to open my eyes back up.

Both of their hands continued to rub my back. It was helping a little, but I still couldn't ease the gnawing pain that continued to grow.

"Hey Santana?" Quinn said my name softly. "Can you try to swallow these again?" Her hand found mine and put the soggy pills into my fist. I'm guessing Brittany had handed her the regurgitated medicine at one point. "Drink a little water first." She nudged the bottle in my other hand.

I did as told. I lifted the heavy bottle to my lips, swallowed a few sips, and pushed the pills back into my mouth. My throat constricted and I felt the pills scratch down as I took a profound gulp of water. In the process I dropped the bottle and felt the warm water spill on my shorts. A set of hands, I'm not sure which, grabbed the spilling bottle and stopped the gushing water.

I started to cough again. It wasn't as deep and painful as before, but I still didn't like the taste of those pills in my mouth. But each time I coughed a sharp pain would run from the back of my head down my neck. My body just continued to find creative ways to cause me pain.

"Good." Quinn encouraged. "That'll help a lot. I'm sorry I didn't think about it before. I should have given you medicine right away. I was just so distracted by everything."

I wanted to tell her its fine, but I kept coughing.

"It's fine Quinn." Brittany answered for me. "We're stuck in the middle of Narnia, everyone is a little spacey."

They sat quietly and waited for me to stop coughing. And I wanted to open my eyes. I wanted to see them and tell them that I was okay.

"I just wanted to say thanks guys." Quinn continued over my coughing. "For what you did before Nationals. For the haircut and for letting me know that I have people who love me. And even though I'm sure you would have done that for anyone, it meant a lot that you did it for me." It almost felt like her dying wish speach. Like she had given up, and in order for everything to be okay she had to express her true feelings.

"Not true." Brittany responded. "If we gave Rachel a haircut we'd shave her head. Or give her a mullet."

I laughed in between a few final coughs and tried to wipe some of the tears from my eyes. It was now or never. I opened my eyes and the glare was almost unbearable. I could hardly make out the shape of my own legs. I snapped my hand back up to my eyes and tried to rub and clear my vision. Again I blinked a few more times and finally was able to make out blurred shapes. But I had to squint from the pain.

I turned to Brittany. Her face was a few inches from mine. Even through my foggy vision I could see that she looked tired. Bags were underneath her eyes, and creases were forming at the corner of her lips.

I had to close my eyes again for a second. It was almost pitch black outside (aside from the small lamp Brittany had placed at my feet) but it was almost too bright for me to handle.

"It'll take a minute for the medicine to kick in." Quinn answered my silent pain. "I'm going to grab some blankets or something." I opened my eyes to see her stand up and jog toward the plane, but quickly closed them again once they started to sting.

I felt around. It was easier than opening my eyes and finding out exactly where Brittany's lap was. When my hands found her thighs I carefully started to ease my head down. It felt like my brain weighed a million tons, and if I didn't lie down soon I was going to explode.

As soon as my head rested against her lap a ton of pressure was released. I could breathe again. So I took a deep breath and let out a shaky sigh.

Her hand started to tickle down my neck, and even though her touch still slightly burned my skin, it felt good. It suddenly felt so silly to be worried about how people saw me, and terrified of people calling me a lesbian. I was stranded on a damn island and I regret pushing Brittany away before, for not going to Prom with her, and for everything. How did I get so lucky to find a friend that stays by my side when I can be so stupid?

A soft fabric covered my legs. Quinn must have draped a blanket over me. I listened as she shuffled around on the ground. I felt a weight push against my legs, and stop. Quinn was resting her head on me.

We laid like that for awhile. Quiet. Brittany must have thought I was asleep when she asked the question, because she's made it a point since Sam found me not to mention anyone else. "Do you think Artie is okay?"

Quinn took a moment to respond. "I'm not sure. I don't really know how well he can get around." Her voice echoed through my legs.

"I'm glad we found Santana." Her hand softly petted through my hair. "I don't know if I would be okay without her."

"I'm glad we found her too." Quinn responded.

XXXxxxxXXXX

The pain woke me up. I opened my eyes to a glaring morning sun. It's heat was bouncing off my face and I was already sweating. When I lifted my head from Brittany's lap, it felt like an anchor was trying to pull it back down. It took all the strength in my neck to keep me from collapsing.

Quinn was gone. Brittany was asleep. She looked awkward and I knew that she would wake up with kinks in her neck. Her back was pressed against the log I had found last night, and her head was resting on one of her shoulders.

I noticed someone leap from the plane, examine the trees around us, and finally make eye contact with me. Rachel gave us a questioning look before marching toward us. "What are you doing out here?" She barked. "You do know there are probably poisonous spiders everywhere."

"Oh God." I groaned through a scratchy voice. My mind wanted to send me scrambling off the ground and searching for spiders, but my body wasn't ready for that kind of movement yet.

Rachel must have noticed my panic. "Well maybe not. I'm sure you're fine seeing as how spiders are terrified of humans. Why didn't you sleep in the plane?"

I didn't answer her. I was looking for the water bottle. My throat was dry and itchy and there's no way I want to go through another coughing fit.

Brittany woke up from all the ruckus to find Rachel standing above us. "Is that you Jesus?" Her voice was groggy.

I took a sip of water and handed it to Brittany. "No." I said. My voice was a little easier to use. "Jesus had a shorter beard."

"You know what." Rachel furrowed her eyebrows. "I-"

"Good morning." Finn walked up behind Rachel and yawned. "We ready to rock and roll?"

"Hello Finn." Rachel smiled. I couldn't help but roll my eyes. I was still peeved that they had kissed during our performance and cost us Nationals. It was their kiss made us lose and put us on this crappy private plane. "We're waiting for everyone to return and then we'll all head out."

"Cool. You guys hungry? I have some beef _jerky…" _He said jerky slowly as he turned to Rachel. "Well maybe we can find you something less meaty to eat."

"No worries. I brought some granola bars. You can never be too prepared." She nodded and left.

Finn watched her leave and looked down at Brittany and me with his doofish smile. It would have annoyed me more if I wasn't beginning to feel the throb creep itself back into my temple.

"Help me up someone." I said. Maybe if I distracted myself, the pain wouldn't seem so intense.

Brittany jumped up and held her hand down to me. Finn held his hand down and both of them slowly pulled me up. My feet slipped over the foliage, and it took me a moment to balance myself, but I was stable. In pain, but not in danger of collapsing.

_Crack! _

The collision knocked me square off of me feet. One second I was stable, and the next second my body was hurtling through the air. I caught a glimpse of Brittany's eyes wide and her hand trying to reach out for me, but the second I hit the ground my head turned to slush. It felt like my brain literally slapped inside my skull.

And when I hit the ground a heavy body landed on me. The weight pushed all of the air out of my lungs.

Brittany was kneeling next to me in an instant. Even Finn was hovering over me. I was confused. Lost. _Why did I get knocked down? _

"Santana?" Brittany panicked. Her hand touched mine. "Are you okay? Just relax."

"Oh my God." Finn didn't know what to say. "Puck what are you doing?"

_Puck? _

I watched in awe as Puck scrambled up from the ground. "Dude. We need to get inside now!" He was out of breath. Finally he noticed I was lying crumpled on the ground. "Holy shit. I didn't see you. I'm so sorry." His hands reached for me and he yanked me up like a rag doll. "We need to get inside." He shuffled me around in his arms until he was cradling me like a baby, just like Sam had done when he found me.

"I can w-walk." I stuttered. A strong wave of nausea consumed me. It felt like I was sitting in the middle of a merry-go-round. My mouth started to water, my throat heaved, and I couldn't hold it back. I curled into myself and vomited all over my shirt, down my chest, and all over my hands. I took a heavy gasp in between heaves. The second heave was dry. I didn't have any food in my stomach.

Everyone watched me like I was about to break. Brittany tried to reach for me, but Puck spun and started running toward the plane carcass. "Come on. Now!"

"Where's everyone else?" Finn started to jog behind us.

Brittany was close by my side, sprinting along with Puck.

"They are hiding back there. It didn't see them." Puck yelled.

My body jostled as he jumped into the plane. He set me down against the siding we had just crawled through. Rachel watched us all clamor into the plane and silently demanded an explanation.

Puck left me resting against the siding and Brittany immediately took a seat next to me. She looked just as confused as I was, but she also looked terrified. She wouldn't take her eyes off of me.

When nobody answered Rachel's silent huffing fit, Puck ran to her, grabbed her shoulders, and forced her to sit on the other side of me. "Stay quiet. Don't say a word or we're going to die."

Rachel's lips trembled, wanting to say something, but she listened. She kept quiet and pulled her eyes to me. She examined the vomit on my shirt and for the first time since we've been stranded I noticed a look of pure concern and horror consume her face. I grabbed her hand and tried to squeeze tightly, but I was having a hard enough time staying conscious.

A deafening roar screamed and echoed through the plane. It shook the floor beneath us and vibrated my chest. Rachel's hand stiffened in mine. I turned to see Puck and Finn peaking out of a window in the front end of the tiny plane.

All of the blood had drained from their faces. They were as pale as ghosts. Another growl filled the air around us. My hands shot up to cover my ears. It was almost loud enough to bust an ear drum. What the hell was out there?

I was brought back to Rachel's alligator comment from earlier. I was thankful that Puck had set me with my back against the side with the crack. I didn't want to see what was out there.

Something huffed and snorted through the crack of the plane. The humid breath filled my lungs and caused me to silently gag and dry heave.

It's going to get in. It's going to crawl in and kill us. I again tried to squeeze Rachel's hand, but I couldn't. I was too weak. Brittany pushed her body towards mine and buried her face into the side of my neck. I closed my eyes. I didn't want to see this.

We sat a little longer. I counted the seconds. Seventy-four-Mississippi. That's when Puck said something. "It's gone. It left. I don't think it knew we were in here."

Nobody moved though.

Puck stood up and walked over to the crack in the plane. "Yeah. He's long gone. Must think we ran the other way."

I looked down and noticed the hand I had clenched around Rachel's was still covered in vomit. I jerked it away before she noticed. Rachel didn't notice, but stood up and darted towards Puck.

"W-w-was that that thing I saw? How big was it?" Her voice was shaky.

Finn and Puck exchanged a look before responding. "Pretty big." Puck answered. "You girls stay here. We're going to find everyone else." Puck leaped down to the ground and waited for Finn. "Just stay here." He repeated before the two boys ran off.

"Santana you're all messy."Brittany acknowledged my shirt. I could tell she was scared. Her eyes were darting everywhere and her breathing was shallow. I wanted to tell her to relax, but I couldn't even relax myself. "We can get you changed. We'll get this off." She turned away from me and reached for a backpack. "Is there a shirt in here?"

Rachel walked over and handed Brittany a plain white t-shirt. She must have dug it out of one of the guys bags when Brittany was talking to me. Brittany set the shirt next to me and grabbed the bottom of my soiled shirt. She carefully lifted it up and eased my arms out. When she did, Rachel made it a point to turn away and _look _for people or _things _that might be coming.

"Here." Brittany held the white t-shirt open for me. I put my arm through the arm holes, and she stretched the neck of the to pull it over my head without brushing against my stitches. "Perfect." It was baggy.

Rachel turned back and walked over to us. "Can you walk if we need to?" She asked me. Her eyes glanced at the cut on my head.

I nodded yes, but the answer was no. I couldn't walk. I could try.

Rachel smiled a weak smile, and knew that I lied. "We should be fine here. I think we'll be fine."

I pulled my eyes from hers and looked down at my lap. I'd forgotten that my shorts were still covered with puke…well Brittany's shorts that she had let me borrow were ruined.

"Come on." I heard someone call. It was Puck. I listened harder and I heard footsteps jogging toward us.

"They're here!" Rachel squeaked. She jumped down from the plane

Brittany stood up, looked out a window, and smiled. The smile was comforting. It meant that everyone was safe. She crouched back down in front of me. "They're here."

"I ruined your shorts." I looked down at the _Wolverine _boxers I was wearing.

"That's okay." She said quietly. "I've got more. We can get you changed if you want."

"No." I said it quickly. "People are here."

Quinn climbed into the plane, followed by Tina. Quinn's hair was tussled and filled with small leaves. Both girls were covered with sweat and catching their breath. Tina spotted me first and walked over.

"What happened?" She stood above me.

"I'm fine. I tried to wave her off." All of this attention was starting to get annoying. I don't want people babying me. I'm not a baby. I'm seventeen years old. I can figure out how to help myself.

She ignored me and knelt in front of me.

"I'll be back." Brittany stood up. She must have noticed my claustrophobia. "I'm just going to help them outside 'kay?" She asked me and left when I shook my head yes.

Quinn walked over and sat down on one of the seats that hadn't been broken in the crash. She even knew to keep her distance.

I felt bad for Tina. I knew I was about to freak out on her. It wasn't her fault. I should be praising her and thanking her, not trying to hold back a bitch-fit.

"Stop!" I slapped at her hand before she even reached for me. "Just stop!" I heard everyone outside go silent, but I didn't care. "I'm fine. I would be better if Puckerman hadn't tackled me. But I'm fine. Apartate. No me gusta. Ya no te necesito. Vete!" The Spanish poured from my mouth.

"Shh!" Quinn pushed her finger to her lips and jumped on the floor next to me. She walked on her knees until she was next to Tina. "We have to stay quiet. I know you're frustrated, but we can help. It's easier if we help."

Tina kept silent.

"My head hurts." I gave up and remembered the pain in my head. I'd forgotten about it in the panic, but now that things had quieted down the ache had returned ten times as worse. It felt like my brain was still slapping around in my head.

I closed my eyes. They were heavy. Way too heavy. Someone's hand caught my shoulder, and that's the last thing I remember before I passed out.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews! There's actually a little more Brittana in this chapter ;) Let me know what you think.**

**Chapter 3 - Run**

Someone was screaming. It woke me up. The noise was shrill, terrified, and curdling. My body wrenched upward and the muscles in my neck whiplashed. I could feel every nerve and inch of my body quiver and seize with pain from the sudden jerk upward, but I couldn't see anything. It was pitch black.

"Shh!" Someone slapped a hand over my mouth and halted my gasps.

Immediately the scream stopped. That's when I realized I was the one screaming. I knew I had to be quiet. I held my breath in acknowledgement and nodded my head into the empty darkness. I know whoever had their hand over my mouth couldn't see me nod, but they could feel the nodding motion with their hand.

The salty hand pulled away from my mouth and un-muted my hushed gasps for air. I licked my lips to dampen them and attempt to alleviate the severe cotton mouth I had.

"I'm thirsty." I said it as quietly as possible, while still letting the words make a sound.

I heard shuffling, but it wasn't the person who had covered my mouth. It was someone else. A lot of people were moving around. I could hear them breathing, I could feel their body heat pushing against mine.

"What's going on?" Rachel's voice was groggy and distinct. It wasn't groggy in the sense that she'd just woken up, but in the sense that she hadn't slept in awhile. "Is she okay?"

"Are you okay? Sorry, but we need to be quiet." Quinn whispered from right in front of me. I guess she's the one that the salty hand belonged to. A water bottle was pushed against my chest. "What's wrong?"

I struggled to grab the water bottle, but eventually pulled it out of (what I'm assuming was) Quinn's hand. I blindly untwisted the lid, listened to it clatter across the floor when I dropped it, and I trembled as I raised the rim to my lips. The water entered my mouth quickly, and I had to hold a large mouthful in my cheeks before I was able to catch the right breath and swallow it.

"I better not be blind." The words cracked from my throat.

A heard a few hushed laughs and I relaxed a little.

"It's nighttime Santana." Brittany spoke from my right shoulder. "We kept the lamps off cause of that thing."

"Oh." I felt I needed to respond, but _oh _was the only thing I could find to say.

A hand slithered by my wrist and soft fingers slipped between my own fingers. I recognized the hand immediately as Brittany's, even though it wasn't really that difficult to fathom. She is the only woman's hand I have ever held.

"Why'd you scream?" Quinn interrupted Brittany's fingers tips pressing and squeezing against my knuckles.

"Hm?" A sudden wave of drowsiness consumed me. I was in an instant battle to stay awake. My eyelids were becoming heavy, my heart rate was calming down, and my brain was suddenly begging to start a dream.

To keep from falling I used my other hand and felt around for Brittany's lap. It only took a few missed touches until I her jean shorts brushed the clumsy searching of my hand. I clenched a handful of the fabric in my fist and used any strength I had in abs to ease the weight of my upper body down. Her hand kept tight around mine as my head pressed against her lap.

XXXxxxxxXXXXXxxxx

"Wake her up." The voice wasn't distinct. There was no tone to it, no inflection. No emotion.

"No. Can't we just piggy back her?" Another voice, but it sounded exactly the same as the first. _Wait, _that can't be right. Why would someone be talking to themselves?

"Britt, she won't be able to hold on. It'll just turn into a reverse wheel burrow drag." Was that the first voice that spoke? How many people were around me?

"I can carry her. I've lift-…" The voice stopped mid-sentence.

"You've what?" Suddenly tone and inflection hit my ear with the same impulsiveness and abruptness of a passing police car siren. Except the tone didn't fade. "Well…it would still be a bad idea to carry her Brittany. What if we have to run?" It was Mercedes speaking.

"Why can't we just stay here and wait for her to wake up?" Brittany asked. The missing tone in her voice was gone and my ears quickly adjusted and sought out the sweet pitch of her words and distinct inflection in her sentences.

My eyes flicked open and thankfully I didn't scream this time. Sultry sunlight hit my eyes. I was starring at a very familiar pair white toed, cream colored converse. The shoelaces were worn out from being tied so often. Brittany. I was lying on her lap.

I could feel drool running from my mouth. That's a good sign right? Maybe. Either I'm a vegetable, or I'm comfortable. My arms were hugging the leg that my cheek was resting on. My hands were curled and lightly clasping the skin of that same toned leg.

I backed my arms out from their bear hug and slithered them away from the heated thigh. _Good, I'm not a vegetable. _I continued by shoving my hands against the floor and pushing my body upward. As I did that, my cheek peeled from the skin on Brittany's lap.

"Problem solved. Thank god you're not comatose." I heard Mercedes from above me. I tilted my head up and saw her standing, arms crossed, and smiling. Sweat stuck to her forehead and she looked tired.

"That's a good song." Brittany said.

I turned back toward her, but my motions were sluggish. Almost like a zombie. I knew what I wanted, where I wanted to look, but it was taking a little longer to get it. My eyes eventually caught Brittany. She looked worse than Mercedes. Sweat was causing the baby hairs along her hairline to twist out in random directions and curl, and her face was pale. Sticky with sweat and pastel. Her eyes weren't quite as fluorescent blue as they usually were, and her lips were faded. She looked like she had been forced to sit in a sauna for twenty-four hours without sleeping.

"Yu ky?" The words were sleepy coming from my throat and unrecognizable. I took a few seconds to clear my throat and tried again. "You okay?"

"Peachy." She smiled and the corners of her lips curled upward into a smile, bearing no teeth. It was exactly what she did when she was answering a question half-honestly.

The heat that should have left my face when I broke contact with Brittany's thigh was still lingering. It was actually becoming annoying. Prickles skittered across my cheek, slid up underneath my eye, and swooped back down to consume my neck. Just the left side though.

Brittany must have noticed my discomfort, because her white-lie-smile faded and was replaced with narrowed eyes. Those eyes interrogated mine for awhile before investigating a spot on the right side of my face. _Crap. _I almost forgot I'd split my head open. So, then why was the other side of my face tingling in pain?

Again with my zombie-speed, I lifted my hand to my cheek. It was scolding. Heat was rising from underneath my skin like an open oven pushes out heat. The faint touch of my fingertips hurt. My skin stung with the contact and I just left my hand hovering above the skin of my face, in awe of the radiating heat.

"What's wrong with my face?" The words would have sounded humorous or maybe off-key in any other situation, but right now I could only feel the dead weight they held in my question. I dropped my hovering hand to my lap.

Mercedes stepped toward me and bent over at the same time that Brittany raised her hand to mimic my previous hovering hand. As Brittany's hand neared my cheek I felt the heat from my face become trapped between her palm and my skin. I could tell that she felt the heat, because her eyes changed. I knew she was trying to hide the response by keeping her face firm, but the involuntary astonishment in her eyes was impossible to mask.

"Oh God, what's wrong?" I twisted around, a little quicker than expected, and searched for some sort of reflection. But there was nothing. The plane was tiny. The seats were leather. The walls were a flat white, and all the windows had busted out.

"Just a burn Santana." Mercedes interrupted my frenzy. "A sunburn. Remember you were layin' outside for like half the day roastin'." She stepped back once the problem of _my face _had been solved. "Looks like you'll need some aloe."

"I've really got to pee." Brittany spoke.

I turned back to her. Her lips were pursed and tucked into her mouth, and her legs were straight out in front of her with her knees pinching together.

"We have aloe?" I timidly asked and continued to watch Brittany squirm.

"The guys wanted us to wait, but I'm tired of waitin'. This is ridiculous. I aint waiting for another one of those things to poke its head in here and eat us." Mercedes ignored both Britt and me.

"Go outside." I whispered to Brittany and gestured my head to the crack in the side of the plane.

Her eyes widened and waxed over. If it was possible, the color from her face drained even more. She shook her head _no, _and her ratted ponytail whipped against her neck.

I had to swallow a gulp before I choked. I'd forgotten about that _thing_. At the memory, the taste of its muggy pants and snorts started to run across the back of my tongue.

"Are you going to barf Santana?" Brittany asked.

I was grateful that her question had distracted me from the memory, and pulled away the awful taste and smell lingering in my mouth. "No." My train of thought started to fade until a realization slapped across my face. "Wait, how long have we been here?" I found myself gawking at sunlight streaming through a broken window.

"Half a day or so." Mercedes responded. "You've been out for awhile. Quinn figured it was a concussion."

"Where's Quinn. And everyone else?" I asked and searched the abandoned plane.

"To look for help. After that thing found us nobody is all that fond of waitin' for it to come back. But they all figured keeping you here was safe for awhile." She walked over to a window and peered out. "And they figured it was safer if we found a place further away from the water, incase that thing crawled back out."

I only could nod in agreement. I'm just glad that someone was making decisions and suggestions on how we could possible survive this insane situation.

"Britt." Mercedes looked over my shoulder to Brittany. "You can just squat in the back of the plane. One of the toilets is still somewhat there."

I watched the blonde stand. Her legs were shaky and stiff and I saw a clear imprint on her thighs that my face had left behind. She shook her legs loose and slowly waddled to the back of the short plane.

"She's had to pee for a long time now." Mercedes spoke to me, once Brittany stepped into a bathroom cubby. "I told her to go, but she didn't want to move you. I'm glad she didn't pee on your head."

I felt my face frown.

"You should probably change your bandages." Mercedes turned and headed toward a backpack on one of the seats. "Quinn told me to have you do it when you got up. How's your head feel?"

"Fine." I said. It was the first time I noticed the throbbing in my head had been replaced with a faint ache. But that could be from the sunburn on half of my face that was sucking up all the attention. "Just feels like my head is twenty times the size it should be."

"Toilet's broken." Brittany said as she walked back toward us. "I did _try_ to flush it."

A sudden quake sent me sliding from the wall of the plane and crashing into a row of seats in front of me. I held my hands out to catch myself. Mercedes fell back into a seat, and Brittany stumbled into a row.

The plane was rolling.

"What the-!" Mercedes gripped the seat so tightly that her knuckles were changing colors.

But the plane continued to roll. The floor I was sitting on was tilting me up to stand. I slid from the seat I had hit and landed feet first on the other side of the plane. I dared a glance at Brittany to find her jumping off a seat and landing on the new _floor_.

My adrenaline kicked in. I didn't know what was going on. The plane was rolling like a log, and there was no explanation as to why.

But it stopped, just as quickly as it had started. And that muggy breath was back. I could taste it in the back of my throat.

_Oh my God. _That thing was back and it was searching for us.

The plane rolled backwards to its original position. It was quick. My feet lifted into the air, and I was able to catch myself. I was surprisingly agile for a head wound patient.

The plane was once again square with the ground.

A hand clenched my wrists and I would have screamed from the shock if any air was left in my lungs. The hand yanked me backward and I stumbled with the force. I turned to see Brittany. She was pulling me to the back of the plane, where Mercedes already was. How the hell did she get back there so quick? What the hell is going on?

A sickening crunch filled my ears, followed by a gust of wind. Hard rocks and metal pelted into my back. I jerked my head around to see an enormous reptilian foot in place of the front half of the plane.

"Shit." I said it. There was no point in whispering and hiding. It knew we were here. "Help. Help. Please Help." I couldn't stop myself. It had stepped on an crushed the entire front end of the plane.

A deafening roar filled the remaining plane carcass. I was too terrified to cover my ears. My body was trembling and tears were pouring down my face. We had to run. Now.

I grabbed Mercedes by the wrist and yanked her away from the corner she was pinching herself into. I'm not sure how we got out of the plane, but we did. The three of us leaped from the carcass, un-cuffed each other's wrists, and were sprinting through the tropic trees.

I leaped from a small ledge and landed in a thorn bush, but refused to stop. Brittany was right next to me, and Mercedes was running behind us.

"Here guys." The voice from Mercedes didn't sound like her. It was shaky, and breathless.

Brittany and I turned to her and she darted behind a thick tree. It took every muscle in my legs to stop my sprint, but I did. My knees locked and I slid to a stop. There was a matching tree just to the left. I pushed Brittany towards it, and we pinned our backs against the aged trunk.

Gasps were heaving from my chest and I couldn't slow myself down. My breathing was ragged, missing oxygen, and full of adrenaline. I snapped my hands up to my mouth and covered my wheezing.

This was good. We'd scurried so quickly from the plane that I don't think it saw us. If we kept quiet and still for long enough, it may just go away.

I closed my eyes. It was better than staring at the exotic trees. Something just wasn't right about monsters inhabiting such a beautiful island.

When I opened my eyes what I saw caused my breath to hitch and my heart to stop. At least a football field's distance away was another one. Its face was hidden near the top of a tree, and its body almost perfectly camouflaged with the branches it was peering through. It was so tall. Its head was the only thing I could clearly make out, and it was held even with the forty foot tree. Stained razor teeth hung down below its jaw. Its eyes reminded me of snake eyes. And the skin on it was a pale faded green, dry and stretched too thin.

What scared me was the thought of how long it had been staring at us. It was looking directly at me and Brittany. Motionless, and waiting for us to move.

"Britt." I tried to speak, but the words were to quiet. They weren't even loud enough for me to hear. Then I remembered my hands were covering my mouth. "Britt." I tried again without my palms muting the sound. It was a little better.

But she must have already seen it. When I looked at her, her eyes were doe-eyed and I saw the muscles lining her jaw clench.

When I looked back, it was gone. But before I had time to think about it, I was being yanked by my wrist. My agility faltered, and my knees caught me. I skid across the rough ground for only a second before my feet pushed me back up.

Brittany and I sprinted away. And I heard it trampling behind us. It's feet fractured trees and vibrated the ground. Each step I took, I could feel the quake from its stomps slip up and quiver my knees.

And it was hissing as it ran. That sound was the worst part. It kept getting louder. Louder and closer.

Brittany's hand yanked my momentum again. We jerked and took a sharp turn into a densely populated stretch of trees.

We sprinted and weaved around the trees. My thigh caught a branch. I felt the top layer of my skin scratch off with the impact. But I ignored the scratch and continued to sprint and stumble between the tropical forest.

I knew that the trees were too thick and too close to each other for that _thing_ to fit, but that didn't stop my legs. They had a mind of their own and weren't planning on slowing.

Not until Brittany said something. "We're okay." She spoke in between deep breaths. "It's gone."

So I listened. We slowed and stopped. Immediately I dropped to my knees and fought against the dry heaves that consumed my body. They were painful and relentless. The racked against my throat, shook my chest, and twisted my stomach.

I couldn't breathe and I couldn't catch my breath. Each intake of air was interrupted by my throat constricting and revolting.

"It's okay." Brittany whispered into my ear. She'd gotten down on her knees and was hugging me tightly. Her chest was firmly pressed against my shoulder. "It's gone."

I started to relax. Not because she said it was gone, but because it felt so strange to have her taking care of me. In a sense, it took me off guard and disrupted my panic. Just like what happens to a barking dog when you flick it in the nose.

"I'm okay." I said after a few minutes. She let go and leaned back. "Mercedes?" I could only say her name.

"She'll be okay. We lost the first one and the other one chased only us." She said.

It sounded convincing. I sat for a moment. Staring. I was looking at Brittany. Zoning out. Not focused on anything particular. Just letting my brain reload.

And I couldn't help but want to kiss her. I knew it was an insane and completely out of place thought. We'd literally just ran and fought for our lives, we're still in danger, and all I can think about is kissing her.

Maybe it was because we'd almost died. We could have died and I wouldn't have had the chance to figure _us _out. And after everything I've been struggling with these past few weeks-recognizing my feelings for her-I didn't want to lose her. I wouldn't know what to do if we'd been split up, if Mercedes with here with me now instead of Brittany.

I leaned into her and pushed my lips against hers. I could tell she wasn't anticipating the kiss. Her mouth was stiff at first, and unresponsive. But it took only a second for her lips to catch up with mine. They consumed my bottom lip and lured me towards her.

I shifted to face her and pushed my palms against her thighs.

The kiss was fluid, but desperate. With my heightened emotions, I could feel every inch of her lips. They weren't as moist as they usually were, but the still felt good. They were soft. Gentle. And her tongue. _Fuck. _Her tongue was the best part. It would only catch my lips for a second, tease, and then pull away. She was slowly turning this panicked and desperate kiss into something sensual and intoxicating.

"Wait." I slowed myself. "We can't. Not now." I pulled my lips away, but left my hands on her thighs. "We need to make sure everyone's okay."

She nodded in agreement, but I couldn't mistake the red tinge in her lips and the lust in her eyes. I smiled at the memories that ran through my mind. And I smiled at how Brittany was. She was both graceful and abrupt at the same time. One second she'll do something completely unheard of and the next second she'll be using the situation to seduce me. Like, when she insisted that Smurfs were blue only because they constantly had ice cubes in their mouths. Of course, after she put ice cubes in her mouth she used her chilled tongue to trace the more sensitive parts of my body…

Don't get me wrong, I'm equally as guilty. I've had my fair share of creative _ideas. _

I looked past her shoulder and towards the direction we had ran in. I jolted in terror when I saw the same faded-green monster standing at the edge of the trees in the distance. Its yellow eyes were glowing through the branches. It was motionless. Watching, waiting for us to come back out.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thank you thank you for the reviews. I started this story as something fun and unique, and clearly that's how people are seeing it. I wish I could have updated sooner, but with my job, and MBF (Must Be Felt)-This update came later than I wanted. I hope it's worth it though! It should be ;)**

**Read/Review/Enjoy :)**

**Chapter 4: Stranded With Santana**

"This way…" My whisper floated back, over my shoulder and into the ear of the girl behind me. That's when I noticed her hand was squeezing my own so very tightly. My knuckles were crushed together and my finger splayed out in different directions. Just like when someone was gripping the neck of a bouquet of flowers with all the strength they could muster.

Me and Brittany softly crunched over fallen branches and leaves. The leaves reminded me of spinach, even though they faintly resembled the horrid green excuse for a vegetable. And while we're on the topic of vegetables, the tree's looked like old asparagus. Brown, green, skinny, bony. It was like the vegetable version of _Candyland_.

Each step we took we were forced to shuffle to one side and juke to the other side just to avoid a tree. Never have I seen so many trees standing so closely together. If I wanted, I could probably push my back against one tree and at the same time press the flat of my foot against another.

But despite the unusual setting, I felt safe. I knew that the _thing_ outside of this tropical forest couldn't fit and if it couldn't fit, it couldn't reach us. Now we just had to get far enough away so it couldn't see us. That's why I was yanking Brittany behind me. I was trying to find somewhere far enough and secluded enough.

Our retreat from it wasn't as quick as I wanted. But I didn't want to run, because that could startle it. And if it was startled it might _try_ to squeeze in to get us. If we ran it would know that we were running, think that it had to get us before we got away, and barrel towards us (knocking down the trees in the process). If Britt and I weren't running away it couldn't chase.

The only thing I could do was frantically walk away and make sure my pace never quite reached the tempo of a run. I knew we were putting a lot of distance in between us and that monster, but I still felt like it could see us through the thickened tropical tree trunks. It felt like its eyes whipped through the distance and pierced through the back of my neck.

That hissing noise was ingrained into my eardrums like constant static fuzz that never shut off. Flashes of how close it had come to catching us repeated and scratched through my mind like a broken vinyl. When we were running I didn't look back at it, but I knew what it must have looked like. I knew that it was close to killing us. So close. I'm glad I didn't turn around to see it breathing down our neck, because I have a feeling that'd be more traumatic than the thought of what it looked like.

The wood from a tree hit my elbow. It felt like sandpaper. I hit another tree with the back of my knuckles and it felt like a wire brush. Sandpaper, wire brush, sandpaper, wire brush. I was getting clumsy and lumbering. Am I pulling Brittany into these trees with me?

I need to slow down. We need to slow down. I may not be running, but my momentum is completely out of control. I'm out of control.

Again I knocked my knuckles against a protruding knot. It was the final straw, the checkered flag, that made me stop. And my stop wasn't gradual. No. It was abrupt. My feet skid and my knees locked. But just like a slinky, Brittany came compressing into my back and slamming me against a tree I had neglected to juke around. She stopped before crushing me against the tree, but that didn't keep me from ricocheting off her chest and into the stiff trunk.

The impact was breathtaking, and not in a good way. My body weight crushed my chest into the tree, pushed my ribs into my lungs, and shoved my lungs down to my stomach. If I wasn't already out of breath and entirely fatigued I would have doubled over on my knees. Instead the impact left me hollow.

"Sorry Santana," Brittany still held tightly onto my hand.

As if reading a script, the two of us slid down and sat in defeat. The two of us were usually in tune, but this still felt a little surprising and _conjoined-twinish. _I pushed my back flat against the tree trunk. One leg folded underneath me, and the other completely extended. I needed something to support my weight, while I tried to fill the hollow in my chest. Brittany sat on her knees at my feet, and placed both of her hands on my extended knee.

"I'm sorry Santana," She repeated. "I didn't see you stop. Are you okay?" She squeezed my knee.

The skin on skin contact felt like someone using an ice scraper to scrape the top layer of my skin off. I winced at her pressure and yanked my extended leg back towards me until my knee was touching my chest.

"What'd I do?" She looked horrified. A layer of sweat coated her skin. And it wasn't the sexy, I just got back from sunbathing sweat. It was the humid, sticky, uncomfortable looking sweat. That kind of sweat that you can't get rid of no matter how many fans you point at yourself.

"My skin hurts." I said. It was the first time I'd ever admitted to her touch burning my skin. Usually her fingertips grazing across my skin left me humming and tingly with warmth, but this was different. It hurt.

Her hands grabbed the back of my calf and extended my leg back to where it had been. Both of us examined the inside of my knee. It was deep red. Clearly burnt. And now that I was sitting I could see a distinct line where my shorts had shielded from the sun. I was sun burnt. Scratch that. I was sun fried. Completely fried. Even little blisters were clustering on the worst parts of my legs. I didn't even want to look at the back-the part that had been in the sun for the longest.

The thought reminded me of the sunburn on half of my face, which I was ever so gratefully couldn't see. I must look like some sort of mutant.

"You'll just have to stay in the shade." Brittany nodded. "We'll stay here."

I examined her face again. It was flushed. Way too flushed. Did I look like that? Her usual glowing cobalt eyes were almost grey, and they sunk into her face. They exhibited absolutely no emotion that I recognized.

"Are _you _okay Britt?" My hand instinctually lifted and cupped her cheek. I brushed my thumb around the corner of her eye, making gently tiny circles. She was clammy. My thumb didn't skim softly across her skin, it got stuck. It dragged in the sweat.

"It's hot. Like that sauna coach Sylvester made us sit in all the time. I feel like a steamed lobster." She took two shallow breaths.

My body went rigid. She was obviously sick. Probably heat exhaustion. How did I not notice it? I'm so pathetic. What kind of friend doesn't notice this happening to someone they claim to love. I'm usually so good at taking care of her, but ever since Sam carried me back to from the beach it's been all about me. My pain.

"You should lie down for a little." I slid my hand down her neck and stopped at her shoulder. "Have you drank water?" Stupid question…So I fixed it by asking another question. "What about food?" Probably another stupid question.

"Rachel has the food." Brittany was swaying. It was faint and hardly noticeable, probably because she was trying to keep me from noticing. "It's really hot." She repeated.

I started to panic. She was too hot. It wasn't just my skin burning from her touch, but it was her skin burning underneath my touch. "Take this off." I demanded and grabbed her shirt. Without waiting for her approval or disapproval, I yanked it over her head. I dropped the sweat lathered shirt in my lap.

Brittany kept still, her hands digging into the ground to keep her from swaying. She didn't even acknowledge the fact that she was sitting in just her bra.

I jumped up from my feet and helped her scoot against the tree trunk I had just been leaning against. She did it without fighting, without asking questions.

"Like totally when this happened." Brittany closed her eyes and rested her head against the tree. "You're so better." She was mumbling disjointed phrases. "Aloe. You need aloe for your skin. But you're hot."

"I know. This will all be okay. I promise." I hugged around her neck and pulled her head against my chest. Her body was heavy, and lacked its usual agility. It scared me. Brittany always leaned into my hugs, even if she was dead asleep in the middle of the night. She always scooted into me, always reciprocated.

She was fine just second before. I didn't get it. Why was she suddenly like this? Why didn't I notice this sooner.

"Will it get here?" She spoke. Her eyes remained shut and her head still weighed heavy against my chest.

I petted the hair that was still tied up in her messy ponytail. I wasn't sure if she was talking about that monster chasing us, or something else.

"_Guys." _

The word caused me to snap my head up from her crumpled form and in the direction of the voice. I saw nothing and instantly assumed I was hearing things. It was a mirage. Or maybe it was that creepy monster calling my name. That sent chills down my spine, no matter how improbable it was.

"Santana." The voice hissed. But was so far from the hiss that the dinosaur made that a small spark of hope filled my sunken chest. Someone who knew who I was had found us.

I watched in the distance, but saw nothing. And then, out of nowhere, like my brain had skipped over an important scene in a movie, Sam was standing above me with Quinn. The two of them were drenched in sweat and trying to hush their heaving breathing.

"Santana?" Quinn squatted down in front of us. She said my name like she was trying to pull me out of some hysterical daze. "Hey. Are you alright?"

"Would you all stop asking me that?" I snapped, but lacked my visciousness. It had run away the instant I noticed Brittany wasn't feeling well. "I'm fine. Britt needs help though. Do you guys have water?"

"Of course." Quinn stood up and nodded her head toward Brittany.

And Sam took her direction. He squatted down in the same spot she had just been, and he stole her from me. He scooped her up and took her without even the slightest grunt or strain. The instant she was gone all the muscles in my body locked. My calves cramped, my elbows twinged, and my jaw clenched. Having her taken away seemed to intensify and justify the situation, and having someone else pick her limp body up made everything _real. _

"Santana." Quinn said my name again. Again she said my name. People keep saying it. Again again again. _Why the hell do people keep saying it? _It's not going to fix things. Fix Brittany. Say Brittany's name. Why isn't Quinn saying Brittany's name?

"Will _Brittany_ be okay?" I jerked my arm away when Quinn reached for it.

"She'll be fine if we get her water." Sam nodded his head. He looked fairly convincing, but maybe that's because he saved my life.

"Santana please stand up." Quinn reached for me.

Before she touched me, I jumped up from the ground. I slapped her hand away from me. "Don't touch me!" I rounded and walked around her like she was a dangerous dog that was about to attack. "I'm fine. Clearly I'm fine. _Brittany_…_Brittany_ needs help."

"I'm fine." Brittany mumbled again. "Don't be a grumpy guss."

My heart leapt from the sound of her voice. It re-ignited that tiny burnt out spark. Even though her voice was weak, even though she still hung limp in Sam's arms, I relaxed my constricted muscles.

"We need to be quick." Sam whispered to all of us. "There's a fence just on the outside of these trees with a hole in it. Puck's watching the entrance till we get back."

I looked in the direction that Sam was talking about. I only saw dense tree trunks. No entrance. No fence.

"Is there food for her?" I asked. There was no point in risking our lives if we were just running somewhere else to slowly die.

"There's plenty for Brittany to eat." Sam again gave me that encouraging nod.

"Plenty of Santana." Brittany mumbled.

Despite the horror of the entire senario (her passing out, us running from monsters), that comment still sent my nerves through the roof. I knew it was a combination of her incoherence and her usual innocent quirkiness. It reminded me of the time I'd watched her web show, _Fondue For Two, _and gasped in horror as she told the entire school I played for a different team. And at the time I _knew _what she was talking about, because I always knew what Brittany was talking about. But that didn't mean others knew what she was talking about.

Now, all of it, me turning down her prom invitation, everything, it seemed so trivial. Now we're all going to get eaten by these horrible things and I'll have lost my chance.

The other two thankfully ignored Brittany's _comment_ and we began to trudge through the trees. I trailed behind Sam, making sure I kept a constant eye on Brittany.

And with my eyes locked on Brittany, I felt Quinn's eyes locked on me. She was inspecting every inch of me. I could tell. It felt like she was waiting for me to pass out, or puke, or do something like that.

But I held my ground. I folded my arms across my chest and refused to give any reason for _people _not to pay their full attention towards Britt.

Quinn was shoulder to shoulder with me and her eyes were still running over my body. Right now she was consumed with my arms. Her gaze was starting to worry me. Maybe there was something wrong with me. I snapped my attention momentarily away from Brittany, and down to my arms. I was covered in tiny little scratches. My elbow looked raw. Scratched.

"It's from the trees." I answered Quinn's stare. My tone was hushed just in case Brittany was listening. "Why do you care so much? You've never cared." I said it, but knew it wasn't completely accurate. I've seen Quinn be caring on occasions. It just takes a mammoth sized problem to peel back her wall. And now that I'm thinking about it…this is a mammoth sized problem.

Quinn shrugged. She even folded her arms across her chest, just like I had done. "Brittany saved my life. And we've all been friends since I moved here. It…I-," She was stuttering and searching for her words.

"Okay." I interrupted and tried to stop her search for reasoning.

She locked her jaw and stopped talking. I could tell she wanted to say something else, but she force fed the words back down her throat.

As we walked and dodged around the trees, I finally saw a clearing. It was just behind a chain linked fence. The fence was at least twenty feet high, and as we got closer the fence started to thicken and bulk. Sam twisted and turned, and led us toward a specific spot on the fence. When I rounded one final tree I saw Puck standing there, holding a tear in the fence open.

When I made eye contact with Puck, we exchanged a knowing smile. It's the only smile that _people-_with-benefits can exchange. And I say _people_, because calling Puck a friend felt kind of strange. Our relationship existed on the premise of sex. That's all we were. We weren't the cheesy characters in a cheesy romantic comedy that fell in love at the end. We were just there. I would be lying if I said I didn't get jealous when he started dating Mercedes last year, or when he flirted with Rachel, or when him and Zizies got together, but that was merely over the fact of someone taking my _property, _not taking my man. Besides, how could I have developed lovey feelings for him, when all a long my lovey feelings were confused and swirling around Britt and me?

_Zizies. _She was lost, maybe dead... My smile instantly drooped and I felt it tug down at the corner of my lips.

Sam squeezed through the narrow hole in the fence, holding Brittany tightly against him. As he tried to fit through without getting caught, Quinn held her hand on my shoulder. I would have shook it off, but at the moment I needed someone to remind me that Brittany and I were not stranded and alone.

Quinn used her hand to push me forward the instant Sam had squeezed through. Puck pulled the rusted metal back, but I still felt it scratch against my burnt arms. I gasped and jolted from the pain. Everyone froze and watched me until I was safely past the fence.

Quinn followed and as soon as she was through Puckerman let go of the fence and pulled me into bear hug. The pressure against my skin hurt at first, but quickly dissolved. It felt good to have him hug me. The hug wasn't intimate, it wasn't even friendly, but it was protective. And it was the first time he has ever hugged me. So I hugged back. I wrapped my arms around his torso and squeezed as tightly as I could, without causing too much pain to myself.

His arm released from around my back, and just when I thought the hug was over, he pulled Quinn toward us.

The group hug was short, thankfully, because any longer and I would have shoved him away and forced everyone's attention back towards Brittany.

"I'm gonna tie up this fence," Puck nodded toward the hold. "Everyone's still over there." He looked at Sam and pointed toward a concrete foundation that supported an identical fence.

Quinn and I stepped away from Puck, and Quinn's hand returned to my back. She started to lead me towards the supposed _hideout. _

Now, instead of walking through trees, we were walking over flat terrain and dead grass up to our knees. Each step I took was precise and planned so I could push down the tall grass and keep it from scratching my legs.

"Mercedes!" The name burst through my lips. "She's still out there." I froze in my tracks.

Quinn stopped with me, and then Sam.

"No." Quinn smiled. I wanted to smack the smile off her face. Why the hell was she smiling? "Mercedes is here. She's the one who told us where you guys were."

The urge to slap Quinn immediately retracted, and I internally slapped myself. I felt awful for my accusation and annoyance at Quinn's _smile _

"Brittany." Someone's voice interrupted us. I turned to see Mercedes trekking through the tall grass and towards us. "What happened? Are you guys okay? Is she okay?"

_Finally someone was paying enough attention towards her. _

"She needs water." I stepped forward and spoke.

Mercedes nodded and turned back toward the direction she came from. That's when I noticed everyone else. Tina sitting by Rachel and digging through a tiny first-aid kit. Rachel bug eyed and alert, waiting to be informed about what is happening, and attached to Finn like a leach. And Finn gawking at the situation with his jaw dropped.

Behind them was an opening in the concrete foundation. It looked like a drainage tunnel, like a cave. But it was completely shaded. Sam hunched down and laid Brittany down inside the tiny cave.

I stood above him, watched every move he made, as he scooted her back and tucked her against the far wall of the drain tunnel. It was about four feet in diameter, and about four feet deep. A metal grate covered the floor of it.

When Mercedes came towards us with a bottle of water, I snapped it out of her hands and crawled into the cove with Brittany. She was still awake, but barely. It looked like she just wanted to sleep. Her eyes were drooping and her blinking was sluggish.

I untwisted the cap on the bottle and held the water towards her. It caught me by surprise when she took it from me and was able to take two healthy swigs without my help. She set the water next to her on the grate and looked at me. Her smile was fragile.

I tapped her thigh, and thought about kissing her on the cheek, but I knew that everyone's eyes were on us. Brittany closed her eyes and rested against the concrete walls of the tunnel when she determined that I wasn't going to say or do anything else.

I crawled back out and examined all of the stares. Everyone was looking at me, like they were waiting for me to do some crazy trick like a backflip or light my hands on fire. But instead the only fire I felt was from the scolding sun. It was blistering through my skin and making every inch of my skin scream in agony.

"What the hell?" I snapped at everyone.

"Are you okay?" Rachel had stood up and detached from Finn. "Mercedes told us what happened."

"That was nice of her." My sarcasm whipped. "Did you tell Mercedes that this was _your _fault?"

Everyone raised an eyebrow at my accusation, but no one dared to interrupt me. I stepped closer to Rachel. "We would still be in New York if it wasn't for you and your hormones. How can you live with yourself knowing that you got half of the club killed?"

Rachel retracted, but looked offended. Her eyebrows turned in and her mouth dropped halfway open.

"That's enough Santana." Quinn grabbed my wrist.

"No that's not enough!" I yanked my hand away from her. "Brittany is sick. Really sick." I continued to focus my attack on Rachel. "You better pray that she is going to be okay hobbit." I spat the words at her.

"W-we're safe in here." Rachel fumbled over her words and pointed around us.

I followed her finger to see that we were in fact surrounded by four sides of fencing. _Wait. _That meant we were in a cage.

"Fuck. What the fuck? We're in a cage?" I spun around again to make sure my eyes hadn't tricked me. "How the hell is that safe?"

"We checked it out." Sam intervened. "Nothing is in here, and whatever left went through that hole in the fence." He pointed back towards where we had walked in from.

"Okay, so obviously that thing can get back in." I looked at him like he was an idiot. But I hid the grimace, knowing that he didn't deserve it.

Again I directed my attack towards its intended target.

But Rachel spoke before I had a chance. "This is the safest place right now. And you need to show Sam a little respect, he did in fact save your life if you recall. This isn't high school Santana. You can't threaten the girls and seduce the guys to get what you want. Besides the guys here already _know_ about you_. _It doesn't work."

I lunged at her, but Quinn cut me off. She grabbed me by the wrists and pushed me backwards. I stopped when My back hit the concrete foundation.

"Just give us some space." Quinn demanded.

Everyone picked up their stuff and scooted away. Finn kept looking back over his shoulder, making sure that I wasn't going to sneak attack his precious Frodo.

"Why do you care?" I once again pulled my wrists out of Quinn's grip. "Why are you all of a sudden being the mediator? Why are you helping me? I treat you like shit."

"I-uh." She stuttered like she had in the tropical forest. But this time I didn't interrupt her search for reason. I wanted to know why. "I'm not good at other stuff." She stepped back. "This is the only thing I know that I can do, that will help. I can't build fires, or fight off monsters, or carry you guys. I can't even sew a silly little cut on your forehead." She was whispering, trying to shield her voice from the now distant group. "But I can bring water bottles, I can find medicine, I can rub someone's back to make them feel better, and I can make suggestions. I am one hell of a demanding woman, so I'll be damned if I don't use that to my advantage." Her voice was gradually rising from its whisper. "So don't you dare push me away Santana Lopez. Not when we so clearly need each other. I understand this is all impossible to fathom, to understand, but that's what it's like for all of us. And I do give you some allowances, because unlike us you got hurt. We found you miles away, alone. But if you want to live, and you want Brittany to live, you're going to have to be a team player."

I lowered my eyes in defeat and shame. I _was_ being selfish, even though my selfishness centered around Brittany. But Quinn is right. Fighting amongst each other isn't going to solve anything. It's going to make things worse. And if Quinn Fabray, Queen Selfish, is telling me I need to get over myself…well…clearly I need to get over myself.

"Fine." I grumbled.

XXXXXXxxxxxXXXXxxXXX

After that, things calmed down. Tina brought me a handful of burn ointment packages from the first aid kit, and I crawled out of the sun and into the tunnel with Brittany. But before I had time to cover my skin with the ointment, I fell asleep.

A chill woke me up. My skin felt like it was being sprayed with nitrous. At first it stung, but the sudden change in temperature was soothing. The cold swam across my arm. Up and down. Up and down.

I peeked through my eyelids. A concrete wall was in front of me and my face was pressed against a stiff cold metal grate. The soothing cold on my arm stopped and I pushed myself up from the ground. As I did, I felt the metal grate peel from my cheek.

My eyes started on the floor. Tiny little ointment wrappers were torn in half and littered everywhere. An empty water bottle was tipped over and deflated. Brittany must have drank it. _Good. _

I then found Brittany. I started on her legs, moved up, but stopped the instant my eyes crossed her chest. She didn't have a shirt. She was sitting in front of me, cross legged, with only her red leopard print bra. "Oh." I sighed and tried to rub the grated indents out of my cheek. Thankfully it was the side of my face without the burn. "I forgot your shirt." My eyes finally worked there way up to her face.

She looked better. Way better in fact. Her eyes were a little brighter, her skin was some color to it, and she was smiling. Given the smile was straight lipped, but still…It was a smile.

"It's okay Santana." She shrugged. "It's too hot for clothes."

I laughed, because she had said those exact words before. But when she had said them before, we weren't tucked into a tiny storm drain cove. We were on my bed. She had said, _it's too hot for clothes, _as she stripped off her pajamas and wiggled her way underneath my comforter. The memory was as vivid as the glaring contrast between the shade we were in now, and the sun outside.

I wanted her to do to me now, what she had done that night. That feeling, sensation, though, was an increasing throb that pounded in between my legs. Instead I tucked away the memory and returned my focus back to the present situation.

"Where's everyone else?" I looked outside again into the burning sunlight.

"Out there talking. There was some shade in the far corner." Brittany responded. "Tina stopped by and told me to put this stuff on you." Brittany held out her hands. They were covered in the ointment. "And then she said to bring you out when you woke up."

"So you're fine?" I asked her.

"As a peach." She smiled, this time using her teeth.

I returned the smile.

Her hands pressed the cold gel onto my thighs. That throb returned. Her fingertips slipped over my skin as she worked the ointment into the burn on my legs. I became increasingly aware of the metal grating pressing into my butt, of the cold concrete surrounding us, and of the spots on my leg she hadn't yet touched.

"Is this okay?" She stopped.

I closed my eyes and a soft whimper escaped my lips. "It doesn't hurt." I said with my eyes still closed.

But that's not what she was asking. I knew it the instant she didn't continue. Her hands laid motionless on my thigh and I heard her hold her breath.

"Yeah." My response was throaty. I'd said it in between a gulp.

So she continued. Her fingers crept up my thigh, stopped at the hem of the shorts I was wearing, and then softly slid back down to my knee. I knew her intentions the instant she continued to rub and that cooling sensation had disappeared. She was no longer putting burn ointment on my thigh, she was massaging my thigh.

But I should have known her intentions the second she said, _It's too hot for clothes. _Brittany never says anything without a reason. She has hidden agendas up every one of her sleeves.

I opened my eyes and scooted closer to her. Now her hands could reach further. And they did. She slipped her fingers under the fabric of my shorts and grabbed a handful of my underwear. Without breaking motion, she yanked her hand back down and pulled my underwear and shorts with her.

I lifted my butt from the ground and sat back down on the cold metal grate as she slid my clothing down. The grate was scratchy and rough against my bare skin, but that was the last thing I was thinking about.

Brittany stopped the fabric at my thigh and crawled on top of me. She put one leg on either side of my lap and straddled my center. Her chest was inches away from my face.

Given the situation, this sudden eroticism didn't quite fit. But at the same time it made perfect sense. If we were going to do this, we need to be creative. And preferably sneaky. I hope I'm wrong, but I have a feeling this may be one of the last times we're alone and somewhat safe. Might as well make it worth it. I'll keep my fingers crossed that she can do this quick enough, I can be quiet enough, and someone doesn't steal a chance peek at us. I'm not too sure how they would react to this. Brittany straddling me in a bra, and me with my pants halfway down my thighs.

"Be quick." I spoke into her chest. My hand ran up from her lower stomach and stopped below her bra.

She obliged. Her hand darted in between my legs and pressed firmly against my mound. I shuttered with the impact. Her fingers felt cold and I knew it was because I was so hot. The two fingers she slipped in between my lips also felt soft. She always felt soft.

Her fingers started a quick swiveling motion and I jerked into her chest from the twinges of uncontrollable pleasure. I could feel myself swelling beneath her touch, and I could feel her fingers becoming soaked as the circled me. She knew exactly what spot to touch and how to touch it.

Her pace quickenened. I saw her stomach tighten and her arm flexed. She was frantic and rushed. Her speed felt like I was falling from the top of a rollercoaster. It wasn't like our typical gradual crawl to the peak, but instead it was a thrilling drop.

"Okay okay." I groaned into her chest.

She stopped. My entire body wrenched and I forced back a boisterous gasp from crawling out of my throat. The throbbing between my legs intensified and sent chills to the rest of my body.

She sat on my lap, pinched my legs together, and waited for me to come back down. Brittany knew that keeping me from squirming would help deafen the moans I make. It's something she learned a few months ago when we tried something similar to this while her parents were home.

I calmed, but that tingle still crept between my legs. It was begging for her to continue. To do more. But instead of answering to it, I let her help me scoot my pants back on.

**xXXXXXxXXX**

**A/N: I had wanted to flush out this last scene, but then I stopped myself. If it's something they want to happen quick then I can't write twenty paragraphs about it. It needs to be written quickly. Hope it worked!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N : :) Let me know what you think! I'm working on this story and MBF-summer series at the moment. But I'm really enjoying writing this story, so I want to continue/finish it! Read, review**

**Enjoy :)**

**Chapter 5 - Best Friends and Other Friends**

"You look hot Santana." Mercedes announced as I approached their small huddle. Truth is, _she_ looked hot. Her skin was glistening like a newly washed car. Except I knew she felt far from a shiny twenty-thousand dollar investment…She probably felt exactly like I did. And I felt drained, like someone had replaced all of the healthy blood in my body with bleach by shoving I.V.'s inside the veins swelling from the top of my hand. Tired. My body was heavy, and not just the muscles. The bones inside my body felt like dead weight. And sore. Along with the stiffness settling inside my joints and sun dried muscles, I was in pain. And not any pain I'd felt before. It was a dull ache that slid through my tendons and jabbed from the inside screaming to slice and push through my skin. And my headache was back. It had to be from dehydration. My tongue was sticky, my lips were dry, and each time I pushed a breath through my throat it scratched like a wire brush.

Mercedes was sitting with Rachel, Finn, Sam, Quinn, Puck, and Tina. They were all sprawled out on the dead, shaded, grass. I'm surprised they weren't scratching the backs of their thighs. If my skin were touching that flaky dry grass I'd be scratching up a storm. But this was the only spot inside the chained cage that offered some sort of relief from the beating sun. Well, the only spot that wasn't a drainage tunnel…

I sped up and leapt across the shaded boundary. The instant I was no longer in direct sunlight my skin relaxed. The walk from the drainage tunnel to the rest of the group was only ten feet, but that ten foot span was like walking through hell. Literally. It felt like fire kept licking behind my ears, burning tar was being peeled from my face, and gritty sandpaper was scratching down my neck.

"What?" My voice was raspy. Not running-ten-laps winded, but doing ten-push-ups winded. I made eye contact with Mercedes and tried to translate the gibberish she was speaking. I'd heard every word, understood the words, I just couldn't go any further than that. My mental capacity has reached its limit.

"You're all hot and sweaty. And burned. You shouldn't be walking in the sun." Mercedes cringed and glanced over the sunburn that made my skin blotchy. "That's one of the worst burns I've ever seen. And you're not even white."

I must look like some horrible lobster mutant, because that's exactly how everyone was looking at me. Their eyes seemed distressed, yet unfocused. I could tell they wanted to look and examine by burns, but Mercedes blatant comment deterred them. "Okay, well unless someone's gonna pull sun block out of their ass, then my burn should probably stop being discussed." I said in an attempt to deter them even further.

"We could put you in the middle of a huddle." Finn spoke. He was the idiot who actually made ridiculous comments in an attempt to lighten the mood. Both he and Rachel were cuddled together. Rachel's head rested on his chest as she fiddled with an empty water bottle, and his arm around her. How precious…And pathetic. If my brain wouldn't have pounded from the strain, I'd have roll my eyes at their lameness. "Except we'd have to shuffle around. It'd be like playing Rugby."

"You're an idiot." I shook my head and looked for Quinn. These past few days I've noticed we've grown a little closer. I trusted her. But then again, I've always had a unique bond with her. After Brittany, I was closest with Quinn. Well, maybe _closest_ is the wrong word, but we hung out. We'd spent time together at _Cheerios, _in school, outside of school. I know Quinn, because I know how awful she can be and I know how generous she can be. Plus, ever since Finn dumped her I've had this growing urge to rub it in his face. To make him look inadequate. "What's the plan?"

Her eyes stole over to Finn for a brief moment. Just long enough to see him shy away from me and focus his attention back on Rachel. When she looked back at me her eyes skidded across my skin. "Uh, well Puck found a shelter. He said it looked like an abandoned shack or tool shed. Which means there might be a phone."

My heart raced and I had to force myself not to jump and smile like a crazy little kid. A shack meant people are either here, or were here at some point. It means we have a way out.

Puckerman took over for Quinn. "We were waiting for you guys to wake up. It's a long hike." He stood up and started to brush the dead grass off of his shorts.

"And the sun." Rachel added. She always had to add something. "We were waiting for it to go down, so…" She stopped herself from saying something about me. "Well, because it's hot."

"Hm." I didn't really know what to say, but felt a little obligated to respond. Everyone's attention was still focused on me. Again I felt as if they were looking at something that if I saw, I'd faint. Is my face really that burnt? Is skin falling off?

"I can clean you're cut Santana?" Tina broke the silence. When I looked up at her I noticed that everyone had returned their attention to things that weren't me. Rachel was quietly talking to Finn and Mercedes about something. Quinn was shuffling through a backpack and handing things to Sam. And Tina was standing a few feet in front of me.

How long had I been zoning out? My arms were folded across my chest and I know my eyes had been locked on a jagged stick, but only now did I notice what I was looking at. I don't even remember what I had been thinking about, if anything at all.

"What?" Again, I had heard words being spoken and knew they were being spoken to me, but I couldn't make sense of them. "Hm? Huh? What?" My questions came out staccato and sharp. I didn't mean to sound that way, but I was overcompensating and trying to cover up for it. I didn't want any additional attention on me than necessary, and snapping at her was my only way to back her off.

"Your cut?" Tina repeated. She held out her hand and in it was a bandage, some gauze, and alcohol wipes. They looked out of place here. As if conventional things shouldn't exist in such a remote location. "It should be cleaned."

This time I understood her. "Oh. Yeah." I shook my head in an attempt to apologize, but couldn't bring myself to actually say sorry. "Sure." I took another glance around at everyone. Thankfully, they weren't staring at me and my obvious detachment. My stomach wrenched when I noticed Brittany wasn't here. "Where's Britt?" I jerked my body around and looked for her. She wasn't behind Finn. She wasn't sitting next to Puckerman. She wasn't even digging through the backpack with Quinn. Something she'd obviously do in this situation. Britt and her curiosity…

"She's back there still." Tina pointed towards the drainage tunnel.

I turned. She was there. She was shuffling around and tying her shoe. I could see her feet poking out into the sun and her hands fiddling with the laces. The same hands that had so recently fiddled with something else…The memory twisted my stomach and sent a heavy heat to my face. It caused my thighs to tighten and a twinge to sizzle between my legs. Holy shit, how the hell did nobody see what we did? Or did they? No, they couldn't have. I'm way to perceptive. I'd notice their discomfort. Besides, Puckerman would have made a stupid comment. Even considering the severity of our current situation, there's no way he would pass up the golden opportunity to spit a _toolish_ remark about girl-on-girl action.

"Oh, duh. I knew that." I responded with my back to Tina and my eyes locked on Brittany's wiggling feet. Her fingers continued to twist and tie a _quadruple-knot. _

Figuring she was safe for the second, I turned back to Tina.

"Are you okay?" Tina's eyebrows were cocked.

I opened my mouth to say something, but she interrupted.

"I know everyone's asking you that, but I really want to know. So just answer me once and I won't ask again." She held her hands up in defense.

Her sincerity and selflessness weren't uncharacteristic, but it still felt weird to have her direct it toward me. "Yeah." I said it hushed and honest. "Yeah, I'm fine." I tucked my lips into my mouth to keep myself from blurting something I'd regret (either a bitchy remark or an honest confession) and just nodded my head once.

"Okay. Well just sit down anywhere." She shrugged and waited for me to pick a spot.

I scanned the grass. It was hay colored. Dead and frigid. Stray, thick, pieces that reminded me of tiny straw spikes pointed straight upward, but other than that everything else lay broken and flat. The second I sit on it, I know it's going to hurt. It's going to scratch the sunburn on my leg. But maybe I can sit on my knees. Only the back of my legs are blistered and scorched. The front isn't that bad. The front is just pink.

Finn must have seen my face and somehow read my mind. He stood up from Rachel and laid a t-shirt down in front of my feet. "It's really pokey." His grin was goofy and brief before he crawled back to Rachel and returned to the conversation he was having with her and Mercedes. Nobody else noticed this gesture, and if they did they didn't think twice about it.

How can Finn be so nice, when I'm so awful to him? My mind instantly flashed back to the time we had sex. Finn and I in that awful, grungy motel. The sex had been quick, kind of boring, awkward, and all I did was shoot him insult after insult. The insults had been an attempt to keep my regret at bay long enough until I could curl up to Brittany in her bed that night and silently cry myself to sleep. But he still had been a gentleman after each of my bitchy quips. He had taken me out for food at an old burger joint and had even paid, he had opened the car door for me, and he had waited until I was inside of Brittany's house before he had driven away. Puckerman's never done anything like that. No guy I've ever been with has done any of those things.

I sat on the shirt. The grass still prickled the backs of my thighs, but the shirt shielded me from most of it. Tina came down to my level and started tearing open an alcohol swab.

"Does it still hurt?" She asked. Her eyes pulled up from the swab and started to examine my forehead. "Do you feel sick at all?"

"Just thirsty." I responded. I felt a tickle start to crawl on the roof of my mouth. It made me want to cough. That cough would be dry. It would be forced. And it would be useless. So I held it in and fought against the stupid tickle.

"We have a little water left. Puck said there's a freshwater creek by this shack. We're going to boil some of the water once we get there. But you're welcome to have whatever we have left." She pressed the cool swab against my forehead.

A crying stab of pain shot into my skull. The alcohol bit at the cut on my forehead and it felt like someone was dragging a serrated knife across the face of the wound. I cringed and coiled into myself.

"Sorry." Tina held the swab away from my forehead and waited for me to relax.

I turned back and looked for Brittany. She was finished with her shoes and finally walking toward us. Her feet patted against the dry grass. But her legs…Her legs went for miles. Before when she had worn that _Cheerio's _skirt, it had been torture to keep myself from touching them. It had been both a gift and a punishment when we quit _Cheerios _and we were no longer able to wear those skirts again. But it does make times like these when I can see them, even times when we're stranded on this stupid island, even more exciting.

Okay, Santana. Stop. We're all fighting for our lives and all you're thinking about is how breathtaking your best friend's legs are? I'm pathetic. I'm fantasizing about her, even after what we just did. Shouldn't I give myself at least a few hours to reboot before I think about her like this.

"Hey Britt." Mercedes greeted her, just as she had greeted me. Except she didn't point out how hot and sweaty Brittany looked. Maybe because Brittany didn't look like a fried tomato. She just looked flushed and sticky. "Feeling better?"

I was grateful for Mercedes' breaking my trance. Her words pulled me out from the dips and muscles of Brittany's thigh and back to reality.

"Loads." Brittany quickened her pace until she stepped into the shade. Before she continued her response to Mercedes she looked around for something. Her eyes caught mine and she smiled. It was brief, but said a thousand words. _Hi. There you are. That was hot. I love you. What's wrong? What's Tina doing? _And so much more. I smiled in response. She turned back to Mercedes, "I'm kinda thirsty though. Is there anymore water?"

Quinn sprang up at this question and walked towards Brittany. In Quinn's hand was a crumply looking plastic water bottle filled to the rim. The label was halfway torn off. "Here." She twisted the cap off, broke the seal, and handed it to Brittany. "Drink about half of it for now."

"Oh, wai-," Tina started to interrupt, probably in an attempt to get some of the water for me.

"It's fine." I whispered to her. I shook my head quickly. Too quickly. It caused my eyes to swim and my vision to spin. When that stopped I continued to whisper to Tina. "I'm not that thirsty." I wasn't the one who had just passed out from heat exhaustion. I could spare a few more hours without water.

Brittany drank the water, and Quinn watched. Both unaware of my short conversation with Tina. At exactly halfway, Quinn grabbed the bottle and eased it from Brittany's lips, capped it, and held it close. "Not all of it Britt. You'll get sick."

"Okay." She gasped, her mouth sopping and scarlet from the water. She dragged the back of her hand across her lips and turned back to me. "Don't wanna blow chunks."

I scooted over on the t-shirt and gave her a small space to sit on, even though the side of my thigh scratched against the uncovered grass.

"Look at me Santana." Tina directed. I turned my attention back to Tina. She was still holding that pain inducing alcohol swab. She looked like she didn't want to do it, she didn't want to hurt me, but she also looked like she wanted to get it over with. So I closed my eyes. Pain hurt less when I wasn't looking.

Brittany's body bumped against mine as she sat down. Her bare thigh rubbed against my own. Her skin was hot. Not as hot as it had been in the drainage tunnel when she was straddling me, but still hot. Or maybe it's just my skin that's hot right now.

The alcohol swab pressed against my forehead again. It was cold at first, but only for a second. And then it stung like a bee. Like a hundred bee's. I clenched my jaw and squeezed my eyes shut even tighter.

"It looks nice." Brittany's voice spoke into my pain. I felt her breath hit my cheeks, but I refused to open my eyes. If I did, they might start watering.

"Nice?" I groaned and continued to cringe.

"Yeah, totally. You'll have a pretty sweet scar for awhile, but it'll go away. Too bad we don't have Neosporin. You always put that on my knees after cheer when I'd have super bad floor burns." Brittany continued. She was trying to distract me. I'd done the same thing when I was putting the Neosporin on her knees. I talked about random things and made her talk back. "And I have no scars." I felt Brittany's body shift and her knees brush against my thigh. I fought the urge to cringe at the contact. Her sticky skin felt scratchy against mine, as if it were scraping off my burn. But soon enough she stopped shuffling. I peeked through my eyes to see she had stretched her legs out in front of her. "Perfect." She commented on her legs.

_Yeah they are. _I thought, but didn't say. She's doing this on purpose. She knows I was drooling over her legs when she was walking over. And now she's trying to use them to distract me.

Brittany continued talking despite my lack of response, and Tina continued to dab at my cut. "I heard they said something about a shack." She was talking directly to me, though the conversation should have included everyone else. "That sounds a little sketchy to me. I've seen scary movies. Bad things happen in shacks."

I soft laugh escaped through my lips, but it was followed by a halted and frozen breath as Tina pressed a little harder. I squeezed my eyes back shut.

"Can I have the water back now Quinn?" Brittany said, her voice now louder since she wasn't talking to me.

Quinn's footsteps approached and I heard the water bottle crackle as it was passed in between the two.

"And that." Brittany said.

I opened my eyes to see what she was talking about. Quinn handed her a thin piece of white cloth. It looked like a piece of t-shirt. My eyes flickered back over to Sam. His sleeves were torn off.

Brittany poured a small amount of the water onto the sleeve. Quinn watched her with interest. Even Tina stopped dabbing at my head and waited to see what she was doing. Brittany soaked the entire cloth and flattened it out between her hands. She then leaned into me and laid it across my neck.

The cold cloth sent chills down the cape of my neck, down my spine and, through the bones in my feet. For the first time since we've been here it didn't feel like my skin was being shredded off with a cheese grater. A deep gasp escaped my lungs. My eyes closed, this time from pleasure, not from pain. And even through my closed eyes I could see Brittany smiling with satisfaction.

"Much better. Since we don't have aloe this is the next best thing." Brittany said.

"Done." Tina announced.

I opened my eyes and saw her stand up. "We'll probably leave here in an hour or so when it starts to cool off."

Tina went and sat by Mercedes. Brittany remained by me. She kept pulling off the shirt sleeve, pouring more water on it, and laying over different parts of my burnt body. If I didn't feel half alive, dead tired, and wired from the cool contact, I would have felt a little self-conscious at the obvious intimacy. Sure, she was just putting a wet rag on my skin, but the way she did it made it intimate. Her hands would brush my thigh. And she sat close. Very close.

I let her do her thing. It felt too good to ask her to stop.

As soon as the sun started to set, we left. We crawled back through the hole in the fence and followed Puckerman. Brittany and I were near the end. I was behind her, and Quinn and Sam were behind me.

When we walked through the trees, trails, paths, and we all walked single file. The ground was too uneven and brush was too thick to walk in pairs. And for some reason, a single file line felt natural and comfortable for everyone. Nobody questioned it.

After what seemed like the longest walk. After my legs were shaking and weak, after I'd sweat all of the liquid out of my body, and after I thought my feet were going to break from being so tender, we reached the shack.

The shack wasn't a shack. It was a cabin. Literally. A two story cabin. It wasn't as nice as a normal cabin. The windows were grey and clouded, the boards were starting to rot, and overgrown vines swallowed most of it. But that made it feel a little safer, instead of more repulsive. When this type of thing would normally make my skin crawl, the seclusion of it made me feel hidden.

I continued walking behind Brittany. My feet and pacing in sync with hers. Nobody said anything as we got closer. Like nobody wanted to jinx it. We all just gawked at the cabin that seemed to fit so well with its surroundings, but still seem so out of place.

The closer we got the quieter it seemed to get. Everyone held their breath.

The line stopped.

I stopped when my chest was pushed against Brittany's back and I could feel my breath ricochet from the back of her neck and hit my lips. My palms gripped around the back of each of her biceps.

"I'll check it." Puck said from the front of the line. Nobody else spoke, so he started to ease towards the door. It looked heavy. The wood on the door was thick, like it was meant to keep things out. That's when I noticed that the windows were grey, because there were metal bars behind them. Again, when that should have made me fidget, it made me feel safe.

Puck grabbed the rusted door handle, turned it, and it clicked. He pulled the door and it scraped open. He ended up having to use both hands to heave it open all the way.

I pushed closer to Brittany. My heart pounded against her back. I knew she could feel it, and normally I'd pull away and hide the fact that I was scared. I didn't like her seeing, knowing, or feeling my anxiety, because I didn't want my feelings to reverberate inside of her. But due to these special circumstances, I'm making an exception. Having her close comforts me.

Puck stepped into the cabin. He was gone for a few seconds and then stepped back out. "It's empty guys. Come one." He waved for us.

The line clamored forward and we piled into the cabin.

It was muggy. Airless. But it was shaded and had four walls and a roof, so that's all that I cared about. Everyone spread out once we got in, but I stayed close to Brittany. She had grabbed onto my sweatshirt. Her hand balling up a bunch of the cloth.

The lower floor was barren. No furniture. In the corner sat a couple of what looked like rusted freezer chests. The stainless steel was now red stained. They looked well weathered. And in the middle of the cabin a winding staircase which led to a second floor.

Everyone walked toward the freezers. I stayed behind with Brittany and Quinn. All three of us were focused on the staircase. What if something's up there? Someone?

Quinn was the first to speak. "Want to check up there?" She looked at me and Britt, her eyes doe eyed.

Brittany and I nodded in unison.

So we paced across the wooden floor and started to ease up the stairs. They were hard to climb. The steps were too close to each other, and the risers were higher than normal stairs. My toes kicked the first few steps until I got used to them and adjusted to the lumbering climb.

While everyone continued to dig through the freezers, the three of us reached the second floor. Quinn, Brittany, and then me. It was startling how different it was from the first floor. There had to be at least eight rooms. A narrow, weaving, hallway squeezed between these rooms, and all the doors in sight were shut.

Quinn tapped my shoulder and pointed behind us down the north hall. "I'll go this way." She whispered. "You guys check that way." She pointed in the opposite direction.

Before I could stop her and suggest we just all go together, she was off and around a corner.

"Shit." I whispered and turned to Brittany. I thought about going back downstairs but I didn't want to go without knowing what was up here. And I didn't want to leave Quinn.

Chances are nothing is up here, but maybe I'd be the one to find a phone, or a radio, or something. I sure as hell need to do something that doesn't involve being taken care of or rescued.

I grabbed Brittany's hand and took the lead. We stepped softly enough to not make a sound. The floorboards were stiff and not creaky like the stairs. The corner came quick and I stopped before we rounded it. I peeked first. _Nothing. _

It was just another set of doors. So I pulled Brittany with me and continued. We walked past three doors and then reached the next corner. I peeked again. Two more doors. One on each side._ Might as well start checking back here. _

I sighed and pulled her with me. Finding the end of the hallway was the first step, and the hardest step. I knew my way back, and figured the rooms were empty since we didn't hear anything on our way through the hall. My free hand grabbed the door and pushed it open. _Nothing. _

And I mean nothing. It was weird and a little eerie. Why would there be a completely empty room? And it was so small. I could probably reach out and touch opposite walls with the tips of my fingers on each hand.

_Clunk. _

Something echoed from the room behind us.

I yanked Brittany into the empty room and shoved her against the wall. I was going to turn back around and shut the door, but my foot caught Brittany's and I stumbled. My hand clutched the door handle and I held myself up.

The door across the hall flung open.

My heart seemed to stop, as if someone had ripped it from my chest. I lunged backwards, expecting something to shoot at me from across the hall. My back slammed against the wall and I crumpled and slid down the coarse wood. It didn't hurt. I wasn't worried about it hurting.

I tried to reach for Brittany, but she was too far away. And she was walking towards the other door. _Wait, what the hell? _Why?

_Brittany, _I wanted to scream but my lungs stopped me. I couldn't make a sound. I couldn't even get up. What the hell is she thinking?

But she ran out of the room we were in and threw her arms around someone. He was sitting.

_Artie? _I couldn't say his name. I still hadn't caught up with everything.

Brittany turned back to me. "Santana its Artie!" She screamed with a huge smile glued to her face. "It's Artie!" She jumped and hugged him again.

A stampede of feet echoed inside the cabin, until everyone was crowded inside the room across the hall and hugging Artie. I still couldn't make myself get up. And I felt stupid for it. I wanted to get up before someone noticed I wasn't hugging and happy to see him. Instead I was slumped in a tiny, empty , room across the hall and unable to speak.

Quinn stepped back from everyone and started to look around. _Shit. _She was looking for me. Come on Santana. Stand up you dumbass. But my legs were locked and my back was glued to the wall.

She looked over towards me. _Fuck. _Quinn looked surprised to see me. I didn't blame her. I was just glad she wasn't making a scene and pointing me out to everyone. She quietly sneaked away and stepped into the tiny cubicle room I was crouched in. She squatted in front of me.

"What happened?" She stood up and held her hand down to me.

I grabbed it and prayed that I was able to stand up. I did. I stood up with her help. My legs were shaky, but strong enough to hold me. "Roller boy scared the shit out of me. It's nothing." I mumbled and rubbed at my butt. It was numb.

"There's water downstairs. And some food." She said.

"Yeah. Fine." I shrugged at her and gave her a dirty look. A look that said, why are you overreacting and why are you looking at me like I'm a freak.

I pushed past her and stepped towards everyone. Artie saw me.

"Hey girl." He smiled. Clearly the newly acquired knowledge of how Brittany cheated on him with me was not on the forefront of his mind right now. This may be the first words he's spoken to me since that day.

I leaned into him and gave him a hug. "Hey." I said into his shoulder. A pang of guilt ran up my stomach. How I got Brittany to break up with him wasn't how I had wanted to do it. I didn't want to hurt him and sneak behind his back, but I hadn't been able to stop myself. I needed her. Even before she had started dating him, it had gotten to the point where we had been too close to stop. A boyfriend wasn't something that was going to distract us.

I leaned back.

"You look burnt." It wasn't an accusation, just a statement from him.

I wanted to defend myself regardless. "I was washed ashore or some shit like that." I played it off.

He nodded, a smile still plastered to his face.

"Wait." I spoke up before someone else did. "How the hell did you get up here?" I remembered the stairs and how hard they were to walk up.

"Mr. Shue and Mike carried me." His voice softened at the mention of their names. "But they left awhile ago and haven't come back. I thought you were them."

I saw Tina fight with her smile. She couldn't decide if that was good news or bad. Hearing that Mike had survived the crash was definitely good, but it wasn't good that he'd gone missing.

"Well, I'm sure they're right as rain." I patted his shoulder and stepped back. I'd started to feel awkward and out of place. I shouldn't be talking to Artie. I don't deserve to even look at him. "I'm gonna check the other rooms." And I left.

I could feel Brittany's eyes watch me leave. I know she wanted to stop me, but she didn't want to call me out. And she didn't want to pull the much needed attention away from Artie.

I still didn't look back. I needed to leave. It was suffocating in there. I walked down the halls, past the stairs, and down the hall that Quinn had supposedly gone down. A door was open. I quickened my pace and darted inside the room.

A shelf was nailed to the wall. Glass bottles were lined up on it. "You've got to be kidding me." My jaw dropped and I grabbed for one of the bottles. _Vodka. _

Quinn stepped into the room behind me. "I meant to close this door." She accused me and eyed the bottle of vodka in my hands.

"What?" I untwisted the cap and drew in a heavy breath through my nose. It smelled like varnish and burnt like acid. But the repulsive smell wasn't enough to deter me.

Quinn spoke, trying to stop me from drinking. Her hand touched the bottom of the bottle as I it tilted up to my lips. "This isn't a good idea Santana. Being drunk now could get you killed."

"Yeah well I'm thirsty." I pulled the bottle away from her hands. "And just standing here could get me killed."

"You're dehydrated. You need water and food. Alcohol will make you feel worse." Quinn whispered and I was thankful she did. I didn't want anyone else rushing in, even though I'm pretty sure Brittany will be distracted with Artie for awhile.

"I think it will make me feel better." I snapped back.

She crossed her arms. "For a little maybe. Then you'll feel sick, and pass out."

"It'll make me feel _happy_ that I've almost died a half of a dozen times these past few days. It will make me feel _happy_ that I know we won't find a way out of here. Happy that everyone else who's not here in this creepy cabin is probably dead. And happy that we're probably about to die." I took a breath. "Don't treat me like a child Quinn, just because you had a baby. I know what the fuck I'm doing." I spat at her and felt a tinge of guilt squeeze my stomach. I hadn't wanted to say that last part.

"Fine." Quinn didn't seem offended. It's like the situation and this insane scenario had stripped away everyone's walls. "But let me grab something for us to eat and some water."

She left and pulled the door shut behind her. But she didn't close it all the way. Just enough to keep me from leaving.

I sat against the wall again. My back was bruised. I could feel it. I wanted to lie on a bed and have Brittany massage that bruise. I wanted her to drape wet clothes over my burns. But that wasn't going to happen, and probably never will happen again. Any second some _thing _is going to crush this cabin, just like it crushed the plane.

Who would have guessed I'd be the girl to get drunk in a life and death situation. I laughed at this thought, knowing it probably wasn't that uncharacteristic of me…according to everyone else. Maybe not Brittany, and for some reason not Quinn.

I lifted the bottle to my lips and swallowed four heavy gulps of the alcohol. It bit as it slipped down my throat. My mouth watered in response and I had to hold my breath to keep the liquid from coming back up. My eyes burned. My throat tingled. But the alcohol hit me immediately. I haven't eaten for awhile, so no doubt I'll get drunk fast.

I tilted the bottle up again and was only able to take two gulps before my throat locked. The vodka was strong. My vision started to float and my tongue dried.

I was in the room, alone, for at least fifteen minutes. I took sips of the vodka, tried not to think of anything, and kept my fingers crossed that nobody would walk in. Just when I was about to give up on Quinn's return, she squeezed through the door, shut it behind her, and set an open can on the ground in front of me. A plastic spoon was sticking out of it. _Beef Stew. _

"What, Rachel didn't want this one?" My words were already slurring together. Quinn might not notice it, but I sure did. I set the bottle of vodka next to me and picked up the can. It smelled like beef jerky. "Are these expired?" I didn't wait for an answer and shoved a spoonful into my mouth.

It tasted amazing. I hate cheap, fake food, but this is the best food I've ever tasted. It melted my tongue and warmed my body, even though it was as cold as the freezer downstairs.

"No they're fine." Quinn started eating from her own matching can. "There's water too." She pointed to two water bottles in between us.

"Sweet." I mumbled through a mouthful of canned beef stew. "Where's everyone?"

She chewed her bite before she responded. "Other side of the hall. They brought food up there. That's what took me so long. I was helping sort through everything." She set her can down and picked up the water bottle.

"What, nobody cared I was missing?" I laughed, but stopped. It wasn't something I'd wanted to say. The alcohol was definitely kicking in. I shoved another huge mouthful into my cheeks, hoping Quinn hadn't heard my words, or magically had forgotten about them.

"I just said you were sleeping." She paused. And before I had time to even think the question, she answered it. "Brittany wanted to come, but I told her you were already asleep. But I can go get her if you want?" Quinn made a motion to stand up and I stopped her.

"No it's fine." I said through another huge mouthful of food. "You're right. And she should probably spend time with Artie or whatever."

"They broke up Santana." Quinn blurted. I could tell she was frustrated.

"Well yeah." I rolled my eyes. "Clearly."

"She's being nice Santana. She cares for everyone here." Quinn set her food down and spoke directly to me. "For goodness sake, she saved _my _life."

My face started to heat up from her attention. Or maybe that was the alcohol. "I know Quinn. What the fuck are you getting at? I know this shit."

"Clearly." She mocked me, and said the word exactly how I had said it.

"Fuck you Quinn." I spoke a little louder. I hope not loud enough for other people to hear. "I don't even know why you're here. Yeah, so what I was nice to you at Nationals. Are you this desperate for a friend?"

Quinn looked hurt, but only for half a second. She shoved it away. "We _are_ friends Santana. We've always been friends. Maybe we weren't so nice to each other sometimes, but we are still friends."

"Mmmhmm." The sarcasm spit through my teeth. I took the final bite of my canned beef stew.

"It took you so long to see what the rest of us saw so clearly." Quinn almost whispered. I had to strain to hear her. "And I'm not saying we talked about it. No. We didn't." She paused to make sure I was listening. And I was. "No, I'm saying that I saw your love for her. Maybe I'm speaking for the others when I say this, or maybe I'm not, but I was jealous. And angry at you because I never had someone like Britt looking up to me and willing to do anything to please me. And the same applies with regards to my jealousy towards Britt. You look at her like she's so precious. You are so protective and loving toward her that sometimes annoys me. You two are like a crappy cheesy romantic comedy. And anybody would be pretty damned lucky to find a real best friend as their lover, because it doesn't happen to most people." Her last words hissed through my ears. I could feel the hurt sting her tongue. She grabbed her water bottle and tried to wash away and swallow that hurt.

I didn't know what to say. So I picked up the bottle of vodka and took a heavy chug. And then I held the bottle towards her.

And she took it. She gave me her water bottle and sipped from the vodka.

"That's better." She coughed. She took another sip.

The door pushed open. Rachel Berry stood in the entrance and gawked at us. Her mouth halfway open and her eyes wide. "Santana, you are not sleeping." Her eyes flitted over to the vodka in Quinn's hand. "This is a horrible idea…Are you guys stupid?" She snatched the bottle from Quinn's hands.

I was shocked by her bravery. But not shocked enough. I reached towards her and took the bottle right back.

"Hey give that back!" She lunged for it, but I tucked it into my chest. "Goodness." She pouted and looked like she wanted to stamp her foot. "If I weren't mature I'd wrench that bottle from your fingers Santana. And I'd slap you. Someone should slap some sense into you two." She accused us.

"Oh please." I scoffed. "Getting slapped by you would be like getting slapped with a mushroom." I rolled my eyes, now unable to feel the pounding in my head. "You're wrists are like dry Top Ramen noodles."

She huffed, turned on her heel and stamped away.

I handed the bottle back to Quinn.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Finally an update! :) Hope it's a good one. I'm going to start another update here pretty quickly, I just want your feedback. Let me know what you think! :) Enjoy**

**Chapter 6 : Confessions**

"There, there…" A hand patted my back. I could feel the awkwardness bump through her fingers and into the middle of my spine after each hesitant pat. "Just breathe."

Another wrenching twist filled my stomach. My body tightened and I heaved. But my throat stiffened. I couldn't puke. I've been sitting inside this pathetic tiny room, gagging, for God knows how long, and nothing is coming up. Nothing after I puked all of that beef stew on myself. I could feel it sticking to me. Against my neck. Down my forearms.

"God..." I groaned. The words were rough and drained. It took too much effort for me to speak them. More than it should. They scraped up my throat and pulled my eyes shut.

"No no no." That awkward patting hand caught my body, along with another hand. It lifted my body back up and rested me against a wall. "Sit up. Until you're finished. I've seen Intervention and you're not going to drown in your barf Santana. I'm not that fond of you, and I say this, because you're severely intoxicated and probably won't remember it, but we're a family. However strange that family is. And I don't want to see you get hurt. Imagine the horror that consumed me when I walked in here." I recognized the voice, the awkward hand, and the way she spoke so technically. Rachel Berry. Why did it have to be her? "I walked in here, Quinn is curled in the corner, still sleeping surprisingly…And you're passed out in the middle of this tiny room puking you're little heart out." She paused. I wanted to open my eyes. Or, maybe they were open…I couldn't tell anymore. Everything felt so heavy, so blurry, so quick. "How much did you drink? You probably have alcohol poisoning. Great." Even through the drunken haze, I could imagine her face. I could _see _her eyes roll, I could see her flap her hands in annoyed defeat, and I could see that stupid little head shake she does when she has to go out of her way for someone. But I could also see that she cared. That was obvious, strangely obvious. "How are we going to pump your stomach? Do we need a machine? No." She paused. "Just sit up like you are. And puke until you can't. There's a bag in your lap." The bag crumpled as I listened to her hands adjust it.

"Were you really that upset about Nationals?" The tone in her voice softened, but not the pace. She continued to talk without taking a breath or pausing. "About the kiss. Finn and I. I'm not one to sacrifice my career. And I know we'd all been working so hard, but it felt right. It's hard to explain. But I figured out of all the guys in Glee, you'd understand that. How someone can mean so much and can make you sacrifice so much." Finally she paused. Was she talking about Brittany and me? "But don't get me wrong. My future means the world to me. And now I'm trying to figure out how it's going to work out. Finn isn't exactly New York material. But I guess that doesn't matter now. We're all probably going to be stuck here-"

"Shut up Rachel." I heard Quinn's voice from across the room.

"What's going on?" Someone new asked. A door shut behind them. "What's wrong?" I recognized Mercedes' voice.

So I forced my eyes open. I didn't want her seeing me like this. I didn't want her to have to take care of me. Rachel Berry wasn't that big of a deal, because she was Rachel. But I've always been a bit closer to Mercedes. Ever since that duet we sang at the beginning of the year.

I saw Quinn across from me. She was blurry, but I could tell she was curled into herself and frustrated. Her eyes were forced shut and her forearm was thrown over the ear not smashed into the hard wood. "Stop talking." She rolled over and faced the wall.

"What the hell?" Mercedes sounded lost. I looked up at her. "Holy hell Santana. What'd you do?" She crouched down next to me and examined what had to be vomit stuck to my neck. "Are you drunk? I can smell it. This room reeks of alcohol." She scrunched her nose up.

I didn't answer, pulled my eyes away from her, and looked back at Quinn. She wasn't judging me. She was sleeping and drunk. So why aren't they hovering over her? Why aren't they ogling her? Why aren't they asking her stupid questions? Maybe because she doesn't look as obviously drunk as me.

I'm a little fuzzy on what _exactly _happened, but she drank a bit, laid down, and then just fell asleep. I'm pretty sure I just kept drinking until the bottle was empty.

"I walked in on them drinking this earlier." From the corner of my eye I could see Rachel lift up an empty bottle of vodka. _Yup, I drank it all. _"Given the situation, and the severity of everything, I didn't think there was any way I could talk them out of it."

"Quinn too?" Mercedes jerked her face away from me and over to the sleeping, irritated, lump.

"She seems to be fine. She just kept mumbling rude things while I was helping Santana." Rachel put her hand back on my shoulder. The touch felt out of place and _okay _at the same time. This may be the only situation she'd ever get away with being so nice. We'd _have _to be stranded on an island, we'd _have _to be fighting for our lives, and I'd _have _to be entirely and completely intoxicated for me not to slap her hand away.

"We should take her down the hall. There's a bathtub. No running water, but we have bottled water." Mercedes suggested.

"Stpp tk I'm hrr." I tried to talk, but again my words were too heavy. The pathetic excuse for a sentence drained so much energy from my body that I felt my shoulders sag against the wall even further. I felt weird. I wanted to talk. To tell them to stop talking as if I wasn't there, but my brain didn't seem to be connected to the rest of my body.

"Woah woah." Two voices, and two sets of hands grabbed my shoulders. They lifted me back up.

"It's okay Santana." I tried to look up and make eye contact with Mercedes as she was talking to me, but her movements were making me nauseated. They were too quick. So I pinched my eyes shut and shoved the heels of my palms into them. I wanted to stop the movement, stop feeling like I was sitting in the middle of a merry-go-round, going round, and round, and round, and round.

My throat tightened again. A stifled groan broke through my throat. I heaved again. It hurt. My stomach knotted and every single muscle in my body twitched.

My throat hitched for a second time. But this time a gag didn't follow. A sob did. I started to cry. It hurt almost as much as the dry heaving, but I couldn't stop it. I felt the tears drop down my cheeks. I felt my nose start to run. And I could hear the half-muffled cries escape my lungs.

"Shh, shh, shh." Mercedes rubbed my shoulder. "I'm going to grab one of the guys to help carry you. We'll take you in the tub and you'll feel a lot better."

"Yeah." Rachel continued to rub my shoulder after Mercedes stood up and left the room. "Cry quietly. You'll make Quinn _angry_if you're too loud." I could hear the sarcasm snip in her words. "Do you want me to get Brittany? I think she's sleeping. I'm not sure."

I couldn't respond. I was too distracted by muting my uncontrolled sobs.

And the door opened before I had the opportunity to stop crying and answer. But I wanted to answer. I tried to force myself to answer. I wanted Brittany. I wanted just her. I wanted her to sit with me, tell them I was fine, and tell them to leave.

"Oh man." Sam spoke. Why him? Why'd she get him? It's bad enough he had to _save _me to start out with and carry me across this stupid island. "What happened?"

"Fck no." I tried to tell them I didn't want him here, but my words failed me yet again.

"It's not that big of a deal." Rachel started. "She's just sick. Can you carry her to that tub we found?"

My tears started another swell. If I could, I would hug Rachel. That may be the uncontrolled and intoxicated emotions talking, but those were the exact words I would have wanted her to say. She's the only person here who could successfully downplay this situation, because she's usually so over the top.

"I guess…" Sam stepped closer. His shins bumped into my knee. "What's up with Quinn?"

"Sleeping." Rachel added without hesitation.

"Okay…" He said it slowly. Suddenly Mercedes' choice in guys made sense. Sam would be the only guy not to question this too far. He wouldn't dig. He would listen, act unsure, but he wouldn't go beyond that. "So do I just pick her up?"

"Yeah." Rachel answered him. I felt her get closer to me. "Sam's just going to pick you up and take you across the hall. I'll walk with you. I won't go anywhere."

Rachel didn't take her hand off of my shoulder until Sam had scooped me up in his arms. The lift was quick, and surprisingly I was able to suppress another wave of nausea. Maybe because his body was warm, unlike the barren room. Maybe because I was somewhere familiar. Or maybe because the alcohol was starting to wear off.

I chanced to open my eyes, and when I did I saw Rachel talking to Mercedes. There voices were too soft to hear though. Way too soft. She turned back to me. A smile across her face. I'd never seen that smile before. It felt infectious. As if she were doing it to make me feel better about the situation. Since when did Rachel care about me?

"Okay. Let's go." She pointed towards the door, stepped ahead of us, and led us down the hall.

The walk was bumpy. I held my breath in case the nausea returned, though I knew it wouldn't. I just didn't want to chance it and end up puking all over Sam. Mercedes stopped halfway down the hall and slipped into a room. She shut the door quickly. I wanted to ask what she was doing, but again I didn't want to strain myself and get sick. So I kept quiet.

Sam squeezed into a room. An oil lamp was lit. Just like all the other oil lamps throughout the cabin. There weren't any windows. No pictures. There was nothing unique about this room, other than the porcelain tub sitting against the wall. It looked old. And not dirty old, just old fashion. It was bigger than the typical bathtub and thicker.

"Should I put her in it?" Sam craned his neck to find Rachel.

"Yeah. Just put her back here." She raced forward, and through the dancing oil lit room, I watched her hands touch one end of the tub. "And I'll help her with the rest."

"Yeah sure." He grunted as he kneeled over and set me in the tub.

The porcelain stung the back of my legs. It was freezing. My legs went rigid. But the sensation seemed to wake me up a bit. It pulled my mind away from intoxication and led it towards the icy chill that ran through my body.

"Thanks." Rachel shut the door behind him and walked back to me. She knelt by the side of the tub. "Are you feeling better?"

"Thanks." It came out as a complete word. It was still heavy and mumbled, but understandable.

My gratitude must have taken her off guard, because she didn't respond right away. "I know we have our differences. But we need to help each other here. So even though we both despise one another, we can just pretend to care for now. At least until we get off this stupid island."

I laughed along with her.

"Here." She bent over and picked up something. It was a water bottle. "Drink this. You'll feel better."

I listened to her. I took the plastic bottle from her hands and I drank all of it. I drank it until my throat attempted to soften, until I washed all of the vodka and vomit from my mouth, and until the only thing I could taste was cheap recycled plastic. The bottle deflated as I sucked the last bit of water from it.

"Okay." She spoke as I set the bottle in my lap. My head started a slow tempo thump. A headache. It started from my temple, and crept down my jaw line, until my teeth felt the quake. A sign that the alcohol was in fact wearing off.

I lifted my hand and grazed the pads of my fingertips against the cut on my head. I'd almost forgotten about it. My touch was sharp. It caused a pained thump to fill my entire face. I winced and jerked my hand away. "Ow."

"That's a good sign. You can feel pain." Rachel leaned over the tub's edge and eyed my head. "That looks pretty bad. I can find Tina. She can help?"

I shook my head _no. _I wanted the least amount of people seeing me like this. The pain in my head shook along with the gesture, so I stopped.

"I'll mention it to her and maybe when you wake up she can check it out. It should be fine until then."

_Tap, tap, tap. _

Rachel's head jerked around to the door. She looked back at me. "I'm going to go, but I'll be across in the next room so just call if you need anything."

I nodded in understanding, even though I didn't understand. Was Finn knocking at the door for her? Was she just going to let me be? Let me fall asleep? Was she leaving?

She jumped up, took two steps, and opened the door.

My heart paused, and followed with two heavy and exaggerated beats.

Brittany squeezed inside and clicked the door back shut. Even in the soft-lit room, through my drunken eyes, I could see she looked tired. Her eyes were swollen. And red.

_Shit. _

My heart pushed out two more hard beats.

She's tired yes, but she'd been crying.

Rachel whispered to her. I could have heard if I really had tried, but I kept my eyes locked on Brittany. And while she nodded in response to Rachel, she kept her eyes locked on me.

A heavy tear fell. It wasn't like the sobbing my body had just experienced. It was more controlled, and far more specific.

"All right. Just come over if you need anything." Rachel squeezed out the door and closed it shut.

Brittany folded her arms across her chest. She didn't cross the room and step towards me. She stepped back and pushed her back against the door.

I wanted to say something. But I didn't know what to say, and I couldn't make my brain think of something to say.

"Are you okay?" Her words pushed through the silence. They matched the tone she'd used with me a few weeks back when I'd told her I didn't want to wear her _Lebanese _shirt, and she'd tossed it at me. It's a tone I'd only witnessed less than a handful of times.

I nodded _yes. _I was afraid my voice would betray me, or wouldn't work all together.

Her features softened. She gave in. Her arms slackened and she crossed the room towards me. Her hands grabbed the edge of the tub and she kneeled outside of it next to me. "I love you Santana. You scared me." She tried to match the tone before, but it had already been lost.

I felt another fat tear fall. Again I nodded.

"I'm sorry. I know how you feel about Artie and me. I shouldn't have done that." She said.

I shook my head _no, _and finally decided I needed to at least to try to speak. "I-it's not." My voice croaked. I cleared my throat, the sticky tears had already made their way down there. "It's not that. You didn't do anything wrong Britt." I was thankful I could speak. _Finally. _

"No." She stopped me. "I got over-involved in the fact that he was alive. I love Artie, and I'm so glad that he's back and okay, but I shouldn't have let you walk away. I should have came and found you."

"I know how you feel about Artie…it's fine." I tried to shove away her apology. I felt pathetic. She shouldn't be saying sorry. I should. I'm the one who can't even take care of myself.

"I love everyone here Santana. But I'm in love with you. You know that." She paused. "I know that."

I wasn't sure how to respond. That admission was more than I was dying to hear. She said the exact words I've been waiting to hear her say since we sang _Songbird_, but for some reason they seemed unrealistic. I just didn't see how we'd ever make it back to Ohio. So I changed the subject. I acknowledged her confession with a smile and tried to talk about something less sinking.

"Who told you?" I asked. I hoped she would know I was referring to, _who told her about me being drunk. _

"I heard you. I heard what Quinn said too, about us. I listened through the wall. With a cup." She scooted closer to me.

Another tear fell. "I'm so stupid. Sam had to pick me up. He carried me like he did before and I got puke on him I think. And it's really sticky and gross. And I'm hungry again-"

Brittany interrupted my drunken rant by placing her fingers against my lips. "You're not stupid. You're scared. We're all scared. Let's get you cleaned and then we can sneak downstairs and eat more. I'm still hungry too." She smiled.

"Okay." I responded and forced myself not to say anymore.

She stood up. She was tall. Part of it was because I was sitting inside this tub, but she was still so tall. Her legs were perfect. And one of those legs lifted over the edge of the tub and stepped in between my own legs. The other foot followed. She lowered herself, until she was on her knees and in between my own legs. No way would a tub that wasn't old fashion, and a little bigger than it should be, fit us like this.

Her hand grabbed the bottom of my tank top and pulled it up. The fabric stuck to my skin from both vomit and sweat. She slowed down when she neared my head and kept the shirt as far away from my cut as possible.

"There." She smiled again. She dropped the tank top outside the tub. "That's better. You feel hot." She rested her palm to my cheek. "Like a pepper."

A snorted laugh slipped through my lips. Another tear followed.

"I'm so sorry Britt." I let the tear slip down my neck. "You shouldn't have to take care of me."

She grabbed a handful of my shorts with each of her hands. "Santana stop. I want to take care of you. You've taken care of me since we were little. You pulled goat-heads out of my knees when we used to play at the park, you punched Karofsky in the throat when he called me stupid, and you took all the pink band-aids out of your mom's cabinet so I could wear my favorite color on picture day." She pulled at my shorts and slipped them down. I tucked my knees toward my chest so she could unhook them from around my ankles. With my knees still bent she started to untie my shoes. "I just want a turn. And you're the strongest person I know. So being _here_is the only way I'd ever get a turn to take care of you."

"Fine." It was the alcohol. It had to be. It had caused me to tolerate Rachel. To puke all over myself. To let Sam carry me like a baby. And now to let Brittany take care of me. "Just for now."

"Just for now." She repeated and took off my second shoe.

She reached behind her and grabbed a small towel. I watched her grab a water bottle from outside the tub, untwist the cap, and soak that towel with the water. I kept still. As bad as I felt for her having to do this, I'd have felt worse if I didn't let her.

"It's not that bad." She leaned forward until her face was inches from mine. She pressed the towel against my neck. It was wet, but warm. I wouldn't have noticed the wetness on the towel if I hadn't watched her drench it with the water bottle, and if I couldn't feel it slide across my neck. "Just got on your neck." She stuck out her tongue and bit it in concentration. Her eyes remained glued to my neck and the towel she had pressed to it. "Remember when I puked on the bus and it flew over the seat. On Kurt. He didn't say anything because he thought it was you who puked on him. But you never told him it was me."

I smiled at the memory. I'd figured it would be easier to let him assume, than to threaten him about saying something to Britt. Sixth grade was a rough year.

She touched the towel to the other side of my neck and I snapped and retracted. It felt like she was dragging rusted nails across my skin. Her eyes shot open and she jerked the towel away.

I hissed at the pain.

"You're burn. Does it hurt that bad?" Her eyes waited for me to respond.

My skin continued to sting. The pain felt entirely different from the headache, but hurt twice as much. I lifted my palm and pressed it against my neck. The skin was hot. Sweaty. In fact, my entire body was sweating. The room felt like a sauna. And as I sat there, waiting for the pain to dull, I felt the alcohol sweat from my skin.

"It's really hot." I pulled away my hand and folded it in my lap. Even my thighs felt hot and sticky.

"Yeah. It is." She agreed.

I looked up at her. She looked hot too. Maybe it was the room. Her bangs were curling, her ponytail looked heavy, and her skin was glistening.

"Is there a fan?" I asked.

"No..."

I rolled my eyes at the question I'd just asked. Of course there's not a fan...

"Can we make someone fan me?" I joked. "Like Rachel?"

She didn't seem to catch the joke or sarcasm. "I can get something to fan you." She started to stand up.

"No." My hand shot out and caught her wrist. "Stay in here with me. Don't leave."

"Okay." She responded and knelt back down between my legs. "What do you want me to do?"

I thought about the question. Thought about all the answers I could give her. And finally I gave her the answer I wanted so desperately to give her. If we really were fighting for our lives, and could die any second, then why would I be dumb about our _relationship_?  
>"Touch me." I answered her.<p>

She faltered for a second, and then brought the towel back up to my neck. She touched the damp rag against my burnt skin for a second time. It stung on contact, but she didn't move it. She kept it motionless and waited for my body to relax.

I closed my eyes. The pain was less when they were closed. And I was braver when they were closed. That wasn't exactly what I'd meant by my words. So I said them again. "Touch me." This time my voice was guttural. I could feel the desire aching through my body.

"I am Santana." Brittany pushed the towel a little harder against my neck.

I wasn't brave enough to say the next words yet. I let her finish cleaning off my neck. She was slow. Careful. Gentle. It felt good, despite the pangs of pain that on occasion ran down my to my shoulder.

But my body was still hot. Too hot.

She pulled the towel away and I opened my eyes. Brittany started to pour more water on the towel. Her hands were shaking though. Just a little. Just enough for me to notice she was anxious. She set the bottle back outside the tub and looked down to my chest. Her eyes completely and entirely skipped over my on-looking gaze. She probably assumed my eyes were still closed.

Her hand, holding the towel, moved toward my chest. My heart skipped a beat and continued to skip beats until her hand pushed the skin between my breasts.

A moan crawled from my chest. The wetness of the towel seemed to have cooled me down at least one-hundred degrees. "That feels good." I said and closed my eyes. I rested my head against the back of the bathtub.

"You want me to touch you here?" Brittany asked the question, but slowly started to rub the towel back and for between my chest and over my bra.

"Mmhmm." I inched closer to her, until my center pressed against her knees.

Her hands stopped moving and before I had time to wonder why, her lips pushed into mine. The kiss took me off guard. It froze my entire body.

She held her lips still, until one of her hands wrapped and tangled into my hair and deepened it. She took my mouth into hers and held the kiss yet again.

I wanted to touch her, more than I wanted her touching me. I lifted my hand and grabbed onto the waistband of her shorts. Her lips stuttered against mine and I smiled against hers in response.

The door crashed open. It slapped the wall and two bodies stumbled in.

I jerked. The back of my head knocked against the tub and Brittany pulled away from the kiss and sat back on her knees quicker than I ever thought possible.

I looked over at the door and someone slammed it shut. Quinn. She stumbled a little and pushed her back against the wall. When I looked to find the other person who had entered the room, I saw Rachel staring at us.

She saw Brittany crouching between my legs. She saw me in just my underwear and bra. And I have no doubt she saw the kiss, and our reaction to her intrusion.

We'd been caught.

Quinn turned toward us. Her mouth dropped a little, but she quickly closed it. "We, uh. There's..." Through the darkness I saw a blush consume her entire body. She knew exactly what we'd been doing, and she knew she'd caught us in the middle of _it. _

"Girls come on." Rachel stepped forward and held a hand out for Brittany. "Something's in here." She whispered.

Brittany kept her eyes wide and locked on me. She looked terrified, confused, and slightly humiliated. I didn't even think it was possible for her to get humiliated.

"Santana can you walk?" Rachel asked as she looked back down at me.

I was all too aware of my lack of clothes. I saw her eyes skip over my exposed, and barely covered, body. But she reached her hand back down and even crouched next to me. "You're going to have to get up Santana. Can you?" She put her hand behind my back.

I leaned forward.

"That's good." She smiled.

Brittany bent back over as soon as I was preparing to stand up, wrapped her arms around me, and lifted me with her. I wanted to let my body go limp in her arms, but I knew that something was wrong, and I knew I had to keep my body going. I couldn't pass out. I couldn't drag Brittany down with me.

I was surprisingly stable, considering the amount of alcohol in my system, and the terrified nerves snipping through my body. I swayed a little, but with the help of both Rachel and Brittany I was able to step out of the tub.

"Ow." Quinn knocked her elbow against the wall. She leaned over and started to fiddle with the oil lamp. "Ow!" She hissed as quietly as possible. Quinn yanked her hand away from the glowing light. Clearly she was still drunk. At least I wasn't the only one.

"I got it." Rachel stepped away from me and in a second the room went pitch black.

Brittany hugged around my waist. I put my hand against her back. I reached my hand out until I found the hand of whoever was walking towards us. _Quinn. _I squeezed Quinn's hand. It was clammy. Warm. But it still felt cold underneath my own hand.

Brittany hugged me tighter.

Something skittered outside the room. It sounded heavy and quick at the same time. Could it open doors? What about everyone else?

The nausea returned. My stomach clenched and my body silently jerked.

"Stay quiet." Brittany whispered into my neck. She pulled me closer to her. I could hear the tears in her words.

Quinn stepped closer to me. Her chest pushed against my shoulder that wasn't pushed into Brittany's chest. She leaned toward my ear. "It's big." Her words were almost mute. "We might be able to outrun it, if we all run different directions." Her voice shook. I squeezed her hand tighter. I didn't want to run different directions. I didn't want it to choose _who_ to chase.

A thud filled the room. It'd hit the door.

My heart was rampaging. My breaths started to become hard to find. I was panicking and I couldn't do anything to stop it. I couldn't be quiet.

It slammed the door again.

The door slapped open. A soft light filled the room from a forgotten oil lamp in the hall.

I saw it. It was just as tall as me. A miniature size of what had chased Brittany and me through that forest. Its eyes were golden yellow, its skin was thin, and its teeth hung out from its parted mouth. Its face almost reminded me of an alligator, other than its nose wasn't as long, and it's head wasn't as wide.

It lurched toward us. I couldn't move. I was frozen. But Brittany pulled me with her. And I kept my hand around Quinn's. Her advice about us splitting up was completely forgotten.

As I fell backwards with Brittany Quinn started to fall on us. Britt hit the ground first. It was loud. And as my shoulder started to push into Brittany's chest my body was yanked the opposite direction.

Quinn screamed and was ripped from my hands. I only caught a glimpse of what happened, and by the time I looked back, it had Quinn by the leg and was dragging her through the door.

Rachel was kneeling on the floor, getting up from her stomach. She shot up and darted toward the door. Her hands frantically trying to catch Quinn between the screams, smacks, and snarls. But their hands never connected.

I climbed back up and followed Brittany out the door.

It slapped Quinn against the narrow hall walls. And when it reached the stairs Quinn was finally able to grab something. But the second it felt resistance, it hissed, bit harder, and yanked her. A pained and terrifying scream shook the cabin. Quinn let go, curled up, and let it drag her down the stairs. Her body knocked down the steps. Her screams droned into my ears, and it's hisses slipped between those screams.

We followed it down the hallway, Brittany in front of me with her hand tightly clasped around my own. Rachel right next to us. But I hit Mercedes. She stepped out in front of me. I stumbled, let go of Brittany's hand, and used my palms to stop my face from hitting the floor. Brittany stopped and turned back.

I tried to stand once, fell back down, and was able to stand on the second try. When I looked to Mercedes, she looked confused. Lost. And when I looked at Brittany, I saw she was crying still. Tears were pouring down her face.

Tina stepped out from another door. Her eyes wide and horrified. She jerked her head around and tried to find out where Quinn's screams were coming from.

The four of us darted towards the stairs. Tina, Brittany, Mercedes, and me. Rachel had already reached them and was on her way down. As we reached them, it had reached the bottom with Quinn. But on the last step it tripped. It caught its foot and she went sliding across the floor from its hurried pace. Quinn tucked and slammed against the wall.

It picked itself back up and started back towards Quinn. Watching it get back up was almost creepier than watching it tug Quinn down the hall. The way it moved made my skin crawl. It almost slithered.

We started down the stairs. I pushed and stumbled past Brittany. I tripped, caught myself on a few missed stairs and reached the bottom faster than anyone else. Rachel included.

I knew Quinn had no chance. I knew it was going to kill her. All of us knew that. So I yelled. "Hey!" My voice croaked and slapped around inside the frantic cabin. "Hey!" I yelled again.

Brittany grabbed the back of my shirt, but I wrenched away. Again I stumbled forward and caught myself on my hands.

It turned toward me. Looked back at Quinn, and then turned back to me. It lunged. I felt my entire body drain. I felt my stomach drop and my heart stop.

A shoulder hit me. I hit the ground. Splinters dug through my entire body, across my exposed stomach, and into the front of my thighs. That _thing_ hit the bottom of the railing. The noise was loud and shook the floor beneath me. Brittany screamed and I looked back up to see that it'd just missed taking off one of her legs. She started to scurry backwards up the steps and away from it's snapping jaw. Tina and Mercedes reached for her and helped her back.

Puckerman hit it. He had a bat. He hit it again in the spine and it hissed and snapped towards him. And then it lunged again. But this time it missed. Puckerman ducked away and it went crashing into a wall. It fumbled, looked at Puckerman, and then looked back to me. It must have assumed I'd be easier to get. It took a step.

Puckerman raced towards me, scooped me up, hit the railing, grunted and dropped me. I hit the floor again. Splinters dug into my knees. I couldn't help but let out a throbbing scream. My knees felt like they were being ripped off.

And before anyone saw it. Before anyone could have done anything. It lunged again. It hit Rachel, who had been leaning over the railing and sent her toppling over the railings edge. She fell about four feet and was knocked unconscious.

If that thing could have smiled, I know it would be right now.

Without the slightest struggle, it grabbed Rachel's shoulder and started to tug her towards the open door.

I screamed at it. I'm not sure what I said. And I got up. I started to run towards it.

Someone grabbed a handful of my shirt and yanked me off my feet. I fell to the ground, hitting my tailbone hard. The pain shot up my back and through my skull. I turned and Sam was standing behind me. "Wait." He ordered and nodded towards the door.

I heard two soft clicks. And following the clicks and earsplitting bang filled the cabin. Something slapped my face. It was wet. Hot. And it smelled awful. It got in my mouth. It tasted salty and almost like copper. _Blood? _

With the back of my arm I wiped my eyes. Rachel was lying by the door. Safe. And it was lying on its side twitching. The back of its head look like it had exploded.

Finn stepped from outside and into view. He stood over the twitching _animal, _pumped the shotgun again, kicked it away from Rachel, and shot it for a second time.

I was shaking. My entire body was humming. I wanted to wipe the rest of its blood off of my face, but I didn't want to touch it. So I sat with my hands held out in front of me and dripping a scarlet red liquid.

Sam's feet round me. He knelt down. "Sorry, but Finn had a gun. I didn't want you to get hurt."

"Yeah. It's fine." I nodded. I moved carefully and slowly so as to make sure the blood didn't touch any other part of my body.

"Here let me help you." He started to tuck his arms underneath my knees, in an attempt to pick me up, but I slapped at him. The blood on my hands splattered on his shirt.

He jerked back.

"Sorry." I dropped my jaw at the blood now on his shirt. I was apologizing for getting it on him, not for slapping him away.

"Okay. I'm going to help the guys with Quinn. You're fine here then?" He asked and stood up.

I nodded and he darted towards Quinn. She was sitting up, cringing, with her back pressed against the wall. I looked back towards Rachel, Finn had scooped her up in his arms. He looked around for someone to say something to. I must have been the only one looking at him, so he walked over to me.

"I'm going to take her upstairs. Thanks for yelling at it and trying to distract it." He smiled and walked past me.

I wanted to say something to him. To say I could help with Rachel, since she'd helped me, but my throat was stiff and locking down words.

Brittany rounded in front of me. Her eyes were tear filled. "Are you okay?" She looked over every inch of my body.

I pulled my hands away so I didn't get its blood on her. And then I looked over her shoulder at the door. Puckerman was holding the shotgun now. And he was kicking the thing outside of the cabin. As soon as he got it out, he bent over, cradled the tail underneath his arm, and started to drag it away.

I jumped up. Adrenaline was still pumping beneath my skin. Brittany got up with me and followed as I ran towards to door.

"Puck." I hissed through the darkness. "Don't. Come back in."

I heard something drop, and then I heard shuffling until Puckerman came back and stood in the oil-lamp lit doorway. "What?" He whispered.

"Don't go outside." I could feel my words start to fumble. The alcohol wasn't completely out of my system. "I-it's, there might be more. There could be others. They could see you and bite you and take you. And then you won't…"

Brittany interrupted. "Santana it's fine. He's fine. We're all fine right now."

I shook my head in protest.

"Look." he reached forward and put his hand on my bare shoulder. I was surprised (regardless of the circumstances) when he didn't look down and take the opportunity to gawk at my partially naked body. "I'm just going to toss this in that creek over there, so nothing smells it. It's practically ten feet away. And I have a gun." He held the gun up for me to see. "Just stay here with Britt."

"Come on Santana. Let's get this stuff off of you." She touched my shoulder.

"No." I started to blubber and cry. "It came in here 'n it took us, and it will do it again." The sobs returned. Those painful sobs that had racked my body were back. Except this time I could feel each and every one of them dig into my chest.

"It's fine Puck." I heard Mercedes say from behind me. "She's fine."

He didn't seem convinced though. He stood waiting, watching me.

Brittany stepped in front of me and wrapped her arms around me. At first I tried to jump away from her touch. I couldn't believe she didn't care she got that _thing's _blood on her. But she held tightly. She held so tightly that I had to stuff my face into her shoulder to keep myself from hyperventilating.

"Jump up Santana." She whispered into my neck.

Those were the same words she had said to me during cheer Nationals a year ago. She's said it when we won. We were cheering, going crazy, Sue and Kurt were being interviewed, and Brittany yelled for me to jump up into a hug. So I ran at her, leapt, hugged my legs around her waist and squeezed her entire body. But is that what she wanted right now?

"Jump up." She repeated.

So I just did it.

Her weight caught my pathetic jump. And I wrapped my legs around her body. She was easily able to walk with me. From over her shoulder, and from the top of my blurred and tear filled vision, I saw Mercedes follow. She was fiddling with her hands and biting her lip. I could tell that she wanted to help. And I could tell she didn't know how to help. But who could blame her…this situation is ridiculous.

Brittany spun with me and sat on the stairs. My butt rested against her thighs as I straddled and continued to hug her desperately. I winced as we sat, still sore from Sam pulling my feet from underneath me and causing me to hit the ground.

"What should I grab Britt?" Mercedes asked.

"I don't know." I could hear the heaviness and pain in her voice. She was so near to breaking, but I knew she wasn't going to.

"I'll grab towels and water. And a shirt." Mercedes said. "Tina's just over with Quinn. If you need anything before I get back, ask her."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: All right...They can't all be on this island and ALL live...:/ Maybe...you wont know until the final chapter. Anyway, my main thing with stories is inconsistency, so as much as I'd like Santana to be fine- she's not. And I justify her actions by saying 'it's who she is'. Or at least, 'it's who I see her as'. So - as much as I wish everyone would be all right, I dare you to be on this island ;) While I edited this chapter I listened to Kate Voegele's 'Hallelujah'...do the same-youtube it. Song fits the mood, so put it on replay.**

**Chapter 7 - Silence**

"Is she still…?" I heard Tina speak from behind me. Her voice was almost inaudible and so hesitant that it felt as if she were whispering to shattering glass.

Am I still what? Still crying? Yes. Still straddling Brittany and clinging to her like my life, and hers, depend on it? Yes. Still trying to figure out how to breath so it doesn't crack my ribs? Yes.

"I don't know." Brittany mumbled.

I buried my face deeper into her hair and hugged tighter around her neck. Sobs continued to rack my body. They were silent. Heavy, thick, and soundless. And in between the sobs I tried to find the smell of her coconut shampoo, but her sweat and the humidity had already sapped it from her hair.

Instead a lingering copper stench had stuffed itself up my nose and into the back of my throat. So then I tried to smell the blonde in her hair, which made no sense. But I wanted that tart lemon smell. It would cling to her hair during the summer after hours of sunbathing, just so we could sun-kiss her hair.

Again, blood from that _thing _invaded all of my senses. I could feel it sticking to my face.

"Santana." Tina said my name.

I didn't answer. I kept myself completely and entirely consumed in Brittany. I tried to smell her hair again, but all I could smell was _its_ blood. It stung my nose. Salty. Bitter. Almost like vinegar. I tried to imagine we were somewhere else. At cheer Nationals. Or in Glee club. I wanted us to be sitting in the stupid choir room. And I wanted people to be staring at me because I was straddling my best friend, not because we were stranded in the middle of an island and I was having a hysterical meltdown.

I could hear Quinn's pained groans from behind me, and I could hear Sam trying to calm her down.

At some point Puck had returned from outside and was dragging one of the freezers across the room. The noise it made as it scraped across the old wood in the cabin was overpowering, almost deafening. What the hell was he doing?

"Santana." Tina said my name again. It surprised me that I could hear her speak so clearly over all the noise Puckerman was making and over the internal quake of my body.

I still didn't answer. I kept crying.

And then something touched me. It made all the nerves in my spine scream and made my skin bite onto the constricting muscles throughout my entire back. "Shit!" I screamed and the words burned through my lungs. I jerked forward. My chest bumped into Brittany. My feet found the steps, and my legs started to push me upward.

But Brittany didn't move with me. She squeezed around my waist and pulled me back down to her lap. "Santana it's fine." Her words were quick. "Its just Tina."

The cabin had gone silent. I couldn't even hear Quinn groaning from her leg. The noise from that freezer that had bored through my skull stopped instantly. There was nothing. No noise.

They were staring at me.

And I was staring at Brittany. As soon as she'd pulled me back down to her lap, and as soon as the ache had faded from the thud to my tender tailbone, I had focused on Brittany. Her eyes were wide with terror, but alert with concern. Her hands were pinching my sides. My _bare_ sides.

_Great. _Everyone was staring at the half-naked crazy girl. My sobs instantly faltered and seized.

Brittany must have read the confusion on my own face, because she continued to calm me. "She's just going to help Santana."

I nodded, but couldn't get my mind off of their stare. I could feel everyone's eyes fixed to me. Fixed to my bare skin. Fixed to the white _granny _bra I was wearing, because it was silly to wear my lace bra during a plane ride back to Lima. But of course, being me, I still had to wear the lacy underwear that matched the bra I wasn't wearing. And for that matter, where the hell did my shorts go? I hadn't been wearing them since I'd woken up. And I think I would have remembered if Brittany had taken them off. "Where're my shorts?" I whispered, almost mouthed the words.

Brittany's eyes flickered down to my lap and then back up to my eyes. She shrugged. "Do you want Tina to help?" Brittany questioned.

I nodded for the second time.

"Okay." Brittany loosened her grip around my sides until her palms were just ghosting above my skin.

"It'd be easier if you could stand?" Tina dared to ask. Her voice was cautious, not wanting to cause me to jump again.

I just nodded again.

I looked around for something to help me stand. Railing? No. It's too far away. The floor? No, touching the floor would make me fall.

"Here." Tina had stepped up one step and stood behind Brittany. She held her hands over Brittany's shoulders for me to grab.

I took them, but couldn't force myself to make eye contact. I felt guilty for reacting the way I had when she had touched me. She'd been accommodating and helpful and I've been crazy. So I kept my eyes glued to Brittany as Tina squeezed my hands.

My legs trembled as I stood. Brittany held her hands out, ready to catch me, if I weren't able to stand with just Tina's help. But as soon as I was most of the way up, Brittany scrambled out from between Tina and me, grabbed my elbows. She helped guide me up the rest of the way.

"There." Tina smiled and I couldn't help but make brief eye contact with her and return a smile. Even if that smile was pathetic and forced. "That's better."

"How?" I strained as the words choked through my throat. I was shaking like a frightened little Chihuahua, and looked like some sort of half-clothed prostitute. My entire body felt as if it were on fire. It felt like someone had drilled into my kneecaps and was now shoving Q-tips into the holes. And the splinters that I knew were covering my body, felt as if they were spreading. As if I were running my back against a frayed and aged fence.

"Do you still feel drunk Santana?" Tina almost whispered.

"What?" I snapped in defensively. How'd she know that? Brittany clung tightly onto my elbows and Tina reached around and put a hand to my back. "Fuck...No."

_Yes. _

They knew that though. Both Brittany and Tina exchanged a short understanding glance, before Tina continued. "Do you think I can take out a few of these bigger splinters? I just don't want them to get infected" Tina said. "There's some numbing cream in the first aid kit."

"Well that would have been helpful during the first few times I had sex." I grumbled. _Oh my God. _Shut the fuck up Santana. Shut up. "Because that shit hurt." I took a heavy awkward gulp trying to clear the thickness in my throat from the tears that had just recently filled it. "And that's a compliment Puck." I wanted to look around and find him, but I was afraid of falling backwards. "Where's Finn…" I looked up the stairs. "He knows all about numb-sex." A weird and sudden laugh slipped through my lips. I gulped it back down.

Tina didn't know how to respond. Her eyes sprung wide open and her hand twitched against my back.

"Shh. Santana." Brittany pinched her thumbs into my elbows. "Those are secrets."

"Secrets." I laughed and it echoed within the silent walls of the cabin. Guess they're all still looking at me… "It's not a secret Brittany." I whispered her name, just so nobody would hear. And I whispered my next words. "I play for another team…remember? Or did you forget what you announced?"

But Tina had to have heard. She was standing just as close as Brittany. "Let's just get you cleaned up." Tina said and attempted to deter my rant.

"Where's Berry?" I called through the cabin. Brittany winced from the loud noise and shot her hand to cover my mouth.

"Santana. You still have to be quiet." She didn't remove her hand. "We're hiding remember."

That's right. Wait. Stop. What the hell am I doing? Don't say it…But my words were boiling. My chest hurt and maybe that's why. I needed to talk. I needed to say everything.

I reached my hand up and grabbed her wrist. But she kept her hand firm against my lips. When I failed to pull her palm away from my mouth, my momentum started to pull me backwards.

Tina jumped and grabbed my waist. Brittany pulled her hand away from my mouth and grabbed the free elbow she had just recently let go of.

"Whoa whoa whoa." Tina's hands guided me back up to the step I'd almost fallen off of. "Maybe you should sit down."

"Maybe…" I hissed. "Maybe that stupid thing shouldn't have interrupted me and Britt fu-..." The silence was humid. I could feel everyone's throat hitch. Nobody knew what to say. "We were taking a bath. She was...helping me take a bath." I tried to mend the embarrassment my words had caused.

Nobody said anything. Nothing.

Brittany laughed. It was short. And when I jerked my eyes back to her, the smile quickly faded and she tucked her lips into her mouth.

That was enough to diffuse the ticking bomb in my chest. And though my narrowed eyes maybe have hinted otherwise, she had calmed me down a little.

"Sorry," Brittany breathed and tucked her lips back into her mouth.

The jarring noise from the fridge being dragged across the floor returned. It shook my entire body and I even saw Brittany jump from the noise.

"Let's get you back upstairs." Tina spoke to me, but my ears were listening to the muffled conversation between Sam and Quinn. Something about her needing stitches.

"Hey." Mercedes started back down the stairs. I didn't know whether to be grateful for her perfect timing, or for her _staying back _until things calmed down a little. "So I found one of Sam's shirts," She held up a light blue plain t-shirt. "And I found your shorts Santana." She held up the boxers Brittany had let me borrow on the plane.

"I was wondering where those went." I grumbled and locked my eyes on the boxers in Mercedes' hand.

"They were up in that room. Quinn was using them as a pillow when I walked in earlier." Mercedes looked down the stairs toward Quinn and shrugged.

"That's weird." I said and tried to remember taking off my shorts so Quinn could use them. And then I tried to remember _why _I would feel the need to do that. But my mind was getting too hazy for thought.

The second my panic had faded, the second Brittany had laughed at my outburst, my body had drained of all its energy. Everything had melted. My thoughts were like mush.

"Oh geez." Mercedes blurted.

Three sets of hands caught me as my legs gave out. I felt like Jell-o. Tired, worthless, Jell-o.

Someone hugged under my arms and lifted me back up. I opened my eyes. Brittany. My chin was resting on her shoulder. I tried to focus my eyes and see past the abstract haze that clouded them, but it was hurting my head. So I let my eyelids fall closed again.

"Someone," Brittany grunted. "Help…" Her voice struggled as I let my body completely fall into her.

I felt hands around my hips. Someone was trying to help.

I was limp. Completely. It was different than when I'd jumped onto Brittany earlier and she'd carried me over to the stairs. This was different. She hadn't been expecting it. I was sinking with her. We were falling.

"I got it." A male voice spoke so clearly from behind us. Hands bigger than whoever had been trying to hold my hips grabbed me. "Let go Britt, I got her." It was Puck. His hands pinched around my waist and I felt the fall become suspended. He compressed my ribs and kept me from sinking completely down on Brittany.

"No. I can do it." Brittany snapped back.

"Britt you're falling." Tina spoke.

"No I'm not!" She yelled.

Her yell woke me. My eyes shot open. I was still buried into Brittany's shoulder. Mercedes had stepped behind Brittany and was now holding her, trying to keep Brittany from falling.

I made eye contact with Mercedes. My eyes stung and I forced them to stop from rolling back. The effort sent a wave of nausea through my throat.

"I fll sk." I tried to talk, but I couldn't get the entire words out. What the hell was going on? I was fine just a second before.

Everyone was unaware of my partial consciousness except Mercedes. She kept her eyes on me.

"Brittany." Puck spoke. "I got her right now. Just let me carry her up and we'll lay her back in that tub."

"I can do it. Stop." Brittany tried to pull away, but bumped into Mercedes.

"Brittany let Puck help. It's fine." Tina cooed.

"Yeah it _is_ fine. I can do it. I'm not stupid." Brittany demanded.

My body convulsed and my throat constricted. I felt something thick foam up my throat. Bile filled my mouth, and before I choked on it, it slipped out my lips. My stomach heaved again.

"Britt." Mercedes tried her best to speak calmly. Through my teary and stinging eyes I watched her gaze flick back and forth between Tina, Puck, and me. "Britt, she's getting sick."

I felt the heated bile cover my cheek as I tried to move away from Brittany. But I wasn't going anywhere. I couldn't even keep my eyes properly opened, so there was no way I was going to face away and keep my vomit from slipping down Brittany's back.

"Yeah." Brittany shook. Her voice was defeated and weak, but her words and intentions were persistent. "So let me take her. I was helping her earlier."

They continued to struggle. I had a hard time understanding the argument. My eyes would close for a second and then I'd open them back up to find Mercedes watching me like a hawk.

The strong hands that had been holding my waist up, Puckerman, hugged around my entire body.

"No!" Brittany screamed.

He started to rip me away from her. I opened my eyes again to see Sam behind Brittany and holding her in a constricting bear hug. Her arms were pinned to her side and she was jerking back and forth trying to get loose.

My legs were swooped up and Puck easily cradled me into his chest. The motion sent my stomach into another fit of heaves.

"Move her away from the stairs Sam." Puck commanded. But the tone in his voice was broken. "So I can get by."

"No! No!" Brittany continued to flail. Her screams rang inside the cabin. "Give her back."

Sam squeezed Brittany and lifted her off her feet. But the second her feet left the ground she started to kick. Thuds and bangs boomed from her feet hitting the railing.

"Stop, Britt." Sam grunted, straining to keep her still.

"Finn!" Puck yelled up the stairs. I wasn't sure if he was yelling for him to come, or saying his name because he'd arrived. My stomach churned again.

"What's going on?" Finn answered seconds later. I heard his feet stomp down the stairs.

"Dude grab her feet." Sam continued to struggle with Brittany.

"Don't touch me. Stop." Brittany was screaming through broken sobs. "Give her back."

I forced my eyes open again and looked towards Brittany. Finn rounded Sam and lunged for her feet. The boys struggled for a second to get a comfortable grip, but with two of them, they had no problem constraining her.

"Sttp…" I mumbled.

Someone's hand grabbed around my ankle. My eyes felt like dead weights as I tried to look at who it was. Tina.

"Let, go!" Brittany squirmed.

"What's going on?" Finn asked.

"We need to get Santana upstairs. She wouldn't let go." Sam answered. "Let's move her down."

Finn looked over his shoulder towards me. His twisting movement forced my eyes back shut. And that's how I left them.

**xxXXXXxxxxX**

"Hey." A voice drifted into my ears, before my eyes were able to catch up.

When my eyes did open all the way I could see a line of people sitting against a wall. I was on my back, cheek pressed against bare wood, and three people were sitting along the opposite wall.

I blinked a few times to clear the haze from my vision.

"Ow!" I jumped and clenched all the muscles in my torso. "Fuck." The unexpected sting vibrated through my body.

"Sorry." Tina leaned back. "I was just bandaging. I'm done though." She stood up and walked toward the open door with a handful of gauze. "I'll go tell everyone you're awake."

"What the hell is going on?" I shifted myself and tried to sit up.

A hand was on my back, before I had the opportunity to struggle. The strength in that hand eased me up and held me until I stopped swaying.

"You're awake." Rachel smiled and sat cross-legged next to me. "It's been a few days. You must be starving. We tried to keep you hydrated when you woke up halfway, but this is the first time you've opened your eyes or talked."

"A few days?" I looked back toward the wall. Finn was sitting against it, next to the empty space that must have been where Rachel was sitting. And on the other side of the empty space was Brittany.

My heart stopped. Why wasn't her sitting cross-legged next to me? Why was she sitting there, expressionless?

"Right. You might have knocked you're head again," Rachel paused and her eyes examined my head. "Or you might have just been rebooting. But it's wonderful that you're awake. For a while I thought you were a vegetable." Her hand lifted and she pushed her palm against my forehead. "No fever." She smiled.

My eyes shot over to Brittany as she started to stand. And before I even had a chance to say anything, she left the small room.

My stomach churned and all of the oxygen left my chest. What was going on? Was Britt mad?

I tried to remember something. Anything. I had to have said, done, something. What though?

My cheek warmed from the memory of puking down her back. Was she mad because I puked on her? No. That's silly. Why'd I puke on her though? The memory was so vivid, but the reasoning was vague. Mercedes was there. Yes. Why though?

My body jolted from the next memory. Brittany begging Puck not to take me.

"Santana are you okay?" Rachel interrupted.

"Sure. Is Brittany okay?" I asked and looked back to Finn. He shifted uncomfortably before standing up, pausing, and then walking out of the room.

Rachel watched him leave. "He still feels bad."

"Bad for what?" I looked straight passed Rachel and towards the door, expecting Brittany to walk back in any second.

Rachel followed my gaze and then looked back at me. "For pulling Brittany off of you."

"What?" I shook my head. Only snippets were slowly making there way back into my thoughts. Snippets of Brittany screaming and me puking.

Rachel shuffled a little closer to me. Out of habit I leaned back and away from her intrusion. But stopped once I realized what I was doing. Rachel took a breath before speaking, clearly not thinking twice about my uncomfortableness with how close she was to my face. "Brittany got really upset when Puck tried to carry you upstairs. This is all second hand information though obviously. What I heard from Mercedes and Tina, because clearly I was unconscious just like you after that thing almost killed me. And Finn didn't even go downstairs right away. At least that's what he told me. He said he heard yelling, but didn't want to leave me alone." She smiled at her last sentence. She cleared her throat and continued. "Anyway, Brittany freaked out and was screaming and yelling. From what I hear it was pretty intense. It took them like an hour to calm her down and now she won't say a single word to anyone. Probably embarrassed. Poor girl. She's so sweet."

"What the hell?" I rubbed my eyes. Rachel was talking way too fast.

"But she's been sitting vigilantly by your bedside the entire time. I tried to talk to her, but as I said, she's been tight lipped." Rachel shrugged.

"How's Quinn?" I suddenly remembered what had started all the chaos…Quinn being taken by that _thing. _

"She's good." Rachel perked up. "Tina stitched her up, but no broken bones. The guys were saying something about that thing not being fully-grown. So we got lucky."

"Yeah. So fucking lucky." I tried to roll my eyes, but stopped as my head throbbed from the gesture. Instead I swallowed and tried to lick the dryness in my mouth "So what's going on? What's the plan?" I paused and waited for the soft headache in my head to calm a bit more. "Are we just going to sit here and wait for another _not _fully grown thing to try and eat us? Or are we going to wait until its mom notices it's missing and comes looking for revenge, because I've seen Jurassic Park. Well, not the whole thing…" I stopped myself before I mentioned exactly _why _I hadn't seen the entire movie. It had something to do with Brittany hiding her face under the blanket and then staying under the blanket and _distracting _both her and me. "A-anyway, uhm." I coughed and prayed that Rachel couldn't read me as easily as I figured she could. "I've seen the part where they put bubblegum on the dinosaur cast and then the mamma eats them all. End of movie."

"Santana. That didn't happen." Rachel raised an eyebrow.

"Knock, knock." Mercedes stepped into the room and smiled. "So it's true." She smiled and paced towards me. When she reached me she crouched and wrapped an arm around my neck. "Glad you're okay." She said as she released me from the hug. "We were starting to worry about you."

I felt my face heat up from the unusual attention. "Well I'm good. How's everyone else?" I quickly tried to shove the attention away from me. It was a little humiliating. I wasn't even able to take care of myself. I had gotten ridiculously drunk and had ended up going into a short coma…Yeah, that wasn't self-destructive and mortifying…

"Good." Mercedes looked down at Rachel before looking to me. "Quinn's walking. Uhm. Rachel woke up that same night."

Rachel nodded and smiled in approval.

"How's Britt?" I asked. I could tell she was intentionally not saying anything about it, and with Rachel's recent confession, I needed to fix things and figure out what the hell was going on. "Where's Britt?"

"Oh." Mercedes tried to act casual. "Just walked downstairs I think. She's been…good. Quiet."

Finn poked his head in the room. "Hey Rachel." A goofy grin was stretched across his face. He gave me a small little wave, which I didn't return. "Artie's asking for you. He thinks he found something helpful."

Rachel beamed at the news and shot up from the ground. "I'll be down the hall guys," she looked between Mercedes and me, and left with Finn.

"I need to pee." I finally acknowledged the distinct and distant ache in my lower abdomen. My face started to flush and burn again at the thought of how the hell I peed when I'd been unconscious for so long.

"We can have one of the guys carry you to that tub?" Mercedes said it without a pause. "That's what we've been doing for awhile now. You've been in and out of consciousness, and we've just been taking you there every few hours."

"Oh my god." I hushed and dropped my jaw. My forehead cringed in embarrassment and my eyes went wide. "Hell no." I stuffed my face into my palms and tried to sort through everything behind hands and closed eyelids.

"We can get someone to help get you up?" Mercedes started.

"No." I muffled through my palms. "I'm fine. Just give me a second."

"Santana." Mercedes said my name.

I didn't respond.

"Santana." She said it again and more demanding.

"Hm?" I grumbled.

"You have nothing to be embarrassed about. Everything we're going through is beyond unimaginable. Hell," She laughed. "If I'd known about the vodka I would have happily joined you. And I'm still a little offended you didn't hook a girl up."

I laughed into my palms.

I listened as she crossed the room and stepped closer to me. "Listen. We're all ecstatic that you're awake. And if it weren't for me, everyone would have come up in here and dog piled on top of you."

I laughed again.

"Now isn't the time to be embarrassed about having to be carried to a bathtub so you didn't piss your pants."

I looked up from my palms and made eye contact with her. Her face was so stern and matter-of-fact. She was never one to bullshit. It's why I had so much respect for her.

"And now isn't the time to walk on eggshells around everyone. We're all in this together. And everyone here cares too much for you to think twice about you vomiting all over yourself and Brittany. Or to care that you practically announced what you and Britt were really doing in that bathtub." Her eyebrows rose at the suggestion.

"Shit." I cringed. "I'd forgotten about that." I tried to shove the memory away, but I couldn't push it from the forefront of my mind. All I could see was the looks on Tina's face as I confessed to what I had been doing in that bathtub with Brittany before Rachel and Quinn came bursting in. "Is that why Britt is upset?"

"I don't think so." Mercedes said.

I didn't say anything. And Mercedes stood and waited for me to say something. I found a spot on the wall in front of me and locked my eyes on it, while I ran through my memories trying to sort out everything that'd happened.

"Do you want me to help you up, so you can use the bathroom?" Mercedes finally spoke into the silence.

I shook my head no. "You can leave." I said monotone. "I mean," I sighed. "You can go if you want to. I'm fine. I just want to sit for a second."

"All right. I'm going to head back and finish what I was doing with Tina." Mercedes hesitated to leave. She peeked outside the door and looked back to me. "Do you mind if Quinn comes in. She's been waiting by the door."

"Yeah. Whatever." I shrugged and stuffed my face back into my hands.

Mercedes walked out and I listened as Quinn's uneven steps entered the room. She didn't sit down, and through the creases in my fingers I watched her lean against the wall.

"Thanks." She spoke.

That was the last thing I'd expected her to say. _Thanks? _What the hell for? I looked up from my hands and examined her. She had a white t-shirt tied tightly around her thigh, and other than that, looked to be okay. "Uhm. You're confused. Clearly that thing knocked your brain around."

"Clearly the alcohol turned your brain to goulash." She smirked.

I noticed the sweat on her shirt, it was heavy and partially dried. Her face looked glossy without the usual light layer of foundation she wouldn't dare leave her house without.

"You drank too Fabray." I snapped back.

"Yeah. I know. I'm just saying, whether it was your drunken stupidity or not, you're the one who kept that thing from dragging me outside the cabin. So thanks."

"Well you know me. Alcohol makes my mouth run like a dirty toilet. You've heard some of the things I've said." I shrugged.

"Just take the compliment." Quinn crossed her arms across her chest.

"Yeah. Well…" I couldn't figure out what to say.

Quinn waited for me to continue and when I didn't, she did. "Yeah, well you're right about alcohol getting you to say some pretty crazy stuff." She smiled and held back a laugh. "I'm very confident your secret isn't a secret anymore. Not that it was much of a secret in the first place." She squinted and returned with her smirk.

"What the hell are you talking about?" I looked her up and down.

"Brittany." She shrugged.

"Shut the fuck up." I whipped back and shot my head towards the door to make sure nobody was listening. "Why is Brittany mad?" I looked back at Quinn.

She shifted her weight. "You're such an idiot Santana. People say Brittany's the clueless one, but it's really you."

"Excuse me?" I didn't know how to take the insult.

"Hey," A soft voice spoke from the door. I shot my eyes in the direction and felt my insides melt. It was Brittany. She was holding two small silver cans and had a plastic spoon tucked in her cheek. "I brought food." She took a step in the room, but waited for someone to say something before she stepped all the way in.

"You should eat something." Quinn spoke to me and leaned away from the wall. "I'm going to go see what everyone else is up to." She stepped toward the hall and walked away.

Brittany walked towards me, sat on her knees, set the opened cans on the floor next to us and popped the spoon from out of her mouth. "Which one do you want?" She didn't make eye contact with me as she asked the question. Instead she just looked down at the two cans between us. "Yellow or brown?"

"What's the yellow one?" I tried to look into the can, but could only see the murky yellow broth.

"It has rice in it. And peas." Brittany responded and dipped the spoon into the can. She swirled and stirred the liquid so the rice and peas floated to the top. "The other one has beef chunks. It's kind of hard to chew, but it doesn't taste bad."

I grimaced at her last sentence so she picked up the yellow can and rested it on my lap, leaving the spoon inside of it.

She stuck her fingers in the other can and pulled out a beef chunk. She slipped it into her cheek and kept her eyes focused on the food in her lap.

"Are you okay?" I asked as I took in her sullen posture. Her eyes were glossy. Her skin had lost its glow, and the bags under her eyes were darker and bigger than ever.

"Mmmhmm." She mumbled through a mouthful of food. She brought her hand up to her mouth and covered it, "You should eat that so you have energy."

"Britt you don't look okay. What happened the other day?" I asked and her body went momentarily rigid, before she shrugged it off and continued to chew. So I asked again. "What happened after I passed out?"

"We're not together right?" Brittany finally asked after a few minutes of silence.

"Together?" I wasn't exactly sure what she was talking about.

She swallowed the food in her mouth. "Together. Dating."

"Uh…" I couldn't find any words to respond. I felt so lost. I had to be missing something. But she watched and waited for me to respond. "Uhm," I gulped. "I guess not officially. No…"

"Okay good." She mumbled and reached her fingers back into her brown can.

"Good?" I whispered and felt my lips tremble. But I forced them to stop. I clenched my teeth and flexed my jaw.

She nodded. "You need someone who can take care of you. Who can carry you up stupid stairs." She said the last part softly and held her breath.

"Oh come on." I chuckled. "That's ridiculous Britt. I couldn't carry you up those stairs if I tried."

She sat silently and picked at her food.

"Britt. What's going on?" I set my food on the floor next to me and watched her. I watched until small hushed tears slipped from the corners of her eyes and stained her cheeks.

"I thought I was going to lose you." Her voice cracked. "I've already lost my family, and I don't want to lose you."

"I'm right here Britt." I reached out and grabbed her hand. It was cold. She didn't squeeze my hand back.

"I shouldn't have acted like that." She bit her lip. "I couldn't give you something, so I panicked. And there are lots of things I can't give you Santana. Especially now. I can't even buy you a stupid birthday present."

I laughed and shook her hand. "Brittany." I reached with my free hand and sandwiched her hand in between mine. "If anyone's acted wrong it's me. I drank a bottle of vodka, puked all over everything, and then yelled at a monster so it would chase me instead of Quinn and Rachel." I used my thumb to massage her hand. "And for my birthday you can just give me something creative. Puck found a shotgun. It'd be cool if I got a shotgun too."

She finally laughed.

"Talk to me Britt."

She sniffled. "I didn't want something to happen to you." She shrugged. "If we were together I would have never gotten the chance to say goodbye."

I pulled one hand away from hers and playfully pushed her shoulder. "What, so you'd be fine with not saying goodbye if we weren't _together_."

"No." She sniffled again and laughed.

"Look." I reached back and rested my hand on her knee. "Let's not worry about that stuff right now. I love you Brittany. So much."

"And I love you." She interrupted.

"Exactly." I squeezed her knee. "So let's do one thing at a time. Let's figure a way out of here. And if we're still here on my birthday, let's find another shotgun to give me." I smiled. "And then when we get back home…we'll figure everything else out."

That glow that had been missing since she'd walked in finally started to return. An infectious smile covered her face. "So we're together." She assumed, though I'd never said the words.

"Well, don't go mackin' on wheels." I smiled and shrugged. "I guess the cats out of the bag about us anyway."

She laughed. I was expecting her to make a silly comment about cats being in bags, until she leaned in and pecked me on the lips. "Now eat." She leaned back.

I picked up the can filled with yellow and stirred the spoon. The rice and peas floated to the top again.

Brittany finished her can before I got halfway through mine. We didn't talk. Just ate. For the first time since we'd crashed, I felt somewhat okay. That dread that had been filling my chest had finally floated away. And it made no since as to why. All of us had just barely survived an attack and there was no doubt in my mind that things were going to get worse. But I liked _now. _I liked sitting here in this tiny room, on this scratchy wood, and eating cold canned, possibly expired, food with Brittany…the one person I loved more than anyone and the one person who filled my stomach with blushing butterflies and my chest with passion.

I finished my can and set it down. Brittany had been watching me the whole time.

"What?" I questioned her stare. "Do I have something on my face?" I used the back of my hand to wipe my lips.

"You're burn looks a lot better." She reached towards me and brushed her fingertips across my neck. I was thankful when the skin didn't sting in response.

"I probably look like I went through a cheese grater." I looked down at my lap to see I was wearing Brittany's _Wolverine_ boxers, and Sam's blue t-shirt.

A heavy thud shook the floor. It sounded like someone had dropped something. And along with the noise, my heart pounded one heavy beat. Both Brittany and I jerked our head towards the door.

Rachel slipped into the room. Her eyes were frantic and darted between both Britt and me. "It's outside."

Silence.

"What's outside?" I put my palms flat against the floor and started to easy myself up. My elbows shook under my weight and I wasn't able to stand until both Rachel and Brittany had grabbed both of my arms and lifted me up.

"A big one." She hushed and squeezed my arm. "Just stay quiet for a little."

"What was that noise?" I questioned the loud bang that shook the cabin.

"Artie's wheelchair. He fell out of it when he tried to duck. There's a window in one of the rooms up here."

"We should go downstairs." Brittany whispered. "Everyone." She looked at Rachel for an answer.

"Yeah." She nodded. "Okay."

Both girls supported my elbows and led us out of the cabin. Our steps were soft. I didn't even think it was possible to walk so quietly. And as we walked in dead silence, my heart was rampaging in my throat. There's no way I can outrun anything. I can barely stand.

We stopped next to a room and Rachel carefully pushed the door open. Artie was sitting on the floor and Puck and Sam were crouching on the floor. The window that they'd been talking about was covered by a curtain. Nothing from outside was visible.

Rachel nodded and gestured towards the stairs. All the guys acknowledged her. Puck crawled towards Artie and scooped him up and the three of them followed us down the stairs.

Each step down, I felt my knees trying to buckle. Every muscle and bone in my legs was screaming at me to stop, but I kept moving. I held my breath and counted the steps that were left until we reached the bottom. _Five. _Brittany wrapped an arm around my waist and Rachel tightened her grip around my elbow. _Four. _We stopped for a second as I held back a winced grunt. My legs were cramping. _Three. _I looked back behind us. Puck was holding Artie and Sam was looking behind us and up the hall every other second. _Two. _I glanced back down to the main floor. Everyone else was waiting for us. Finn was standing next to Mercedes, his eyes wide and impatient. Tina was clenching the railing at the bottom and her knuckles were white. _One. _I took a shaky breath and stepped down to the floor and made eye contact with Quinn when she stepped out from behind Tina. The guys behind me flooded down, and Rachel and Brittany kept glued to my side.

Everyone huddled together. All of us looked to one another, trying to figure out what was going on and what we were going to do about it.

Rachel squeezed my elbow tighter, took a breath, and spoke first. "I'm not sure if it saw anyone." She looked to Artie and he shrugged from Pucks arms. "Okay. Sam, grab the gun." Sam quietly paced away and towards the wall. He returned with the shotgun. "Tina, good, you have the backpack. Everything's packed in it right?"

Tina nodded. "First aid kit. All the food. Water."

"I got the map." Finn whispered. "And we already moved the freezer away from the door."

Rachel nodded.

I looked toward the door and saw the freezer standing open next to the thick, rickety door.

"Okay. We'll have to split up. One fast group, one slow group." Rachel looked to me and then to Artie and then to Quinn. "Some of us aren't going to be able to get away quickly, and the fast group may be able to distract it and still get away from it at the same time." She looked throughout the huddled circle at everyone. "If we run, who wants to go first?"

The question sent knots to my stomach, because everyone knew exactly what she meant by that. _If we run, who wants to make it chase them? _

Nobody answered, so Rachel continued. "I feel pretty healthy. I can run." She nodded quickly.

"Then I'll run too." Finn intervened.

"Wait." Rachel held up her hand. "Let's think this out. There are three of us who can't move without help or can't move as quick as the others." Guilt filled my body and momentarily distracted me from the pained cramping in my thighs. "Puck are you going to be able to carry Artie?"

"Yeah, totally." He nodded.

Brittany squeezed tighter around my waist.

Rachel glanced back up the stairs, as if that were the place that _thing _would come from if it came inside. She turned back toward everyone. "Quinn. You'll be in the second group too."

Quinn nodded.

"Two more people need to stay behind for Quinn and Santana." Rachel gulped and looked to me. I could feel her shaking, and I saw her glance at Brittany from the corner of her eye.

"Look." Mercedes spoke up. "I may not be the fastest runner here, but if something's chasing me I'll sure as hell run my ass off. So I'll go with you Rachel."

"Me too." Tina volunteered.

"Good." Rachel nodded. "Uhm so it's settled. Finn and Sam can stay behind too."

Everybody shifted uncomfortably, knowing what Rachel had intentionally avoided.

"What about me?" Brittany asked. All eyes shot to her and me.

Small pieces of debris slapped against the side of my face. Everyone curled into themselves. I fell down to my knees as my palms caught the floor.

An agonizing hiss filled the cabin, along with the thick heaviness of the sunlight. Brittany pulled me to my feet and I looked towards the direction of the hiss. The cabin's wall had caved in and two shadows darted inside.

One lunged first, hit Rachel and sent her barreling into the bottoms steps of the stairs. The second shadow lunged at Mercedes.

"Shoot Sam!" Puck's voice filled the cabin.

My throat burned as I started to cough. The broken wood dust had gone up my nose and started to slip into my lungs. Brittany pulled me backwards and towards the cabins door. But my legs were frozen. The muscles had completely knotted and I could barely move. But that didn't keep her from dragging me where she wanted to go.

The shotgun fired. Sam hit the one that had lunged at Rachel. It fell limply to the ground and started to scream. Rachel scrambled away from the twitching and shrieking monster and straight towards me. "I got her other arm Britt." Rachel screamed and grabbed my elbow.

"Mercedes!" I screamed into the cabin. The second one had grabbed her and was now dragging her towards the hole in the cabin. It pulled her like a rag doll.

Sam pumped the shotgun, aimed…

Missed.

Wood splintered as he shot a hole in the cabin floor. He fumbled through his pockets after he cocked the gun open.

Before I could see what had happened I was pulled out of the door and my shins hit the dirt outside. Hard.

"Come on Santana." Rachel knelt down and helped Brittany pick me back up.

"I'm trying!" I screamed. I tried to flex my legs. I tried to bend them, but the muscles were too tight.

I pushed one foot into the ground, my leg shook and my knee hesitantly bent. I followed with the other foot, and within a few steps I was able to somewhat run.

Puck ran in front of us, Artie clinging to him desperately. "Come on girls. Just a bit further."

Bit further till what? Till it eats my head off? Puck stopped for a second, scanned the ground, and then darted to the left. He set Artie down on the foliage and started to kick around the dirt, occasionally dropping to his knees and sweeping the ground with his palms.

I stopped with Rachel and Brittany when we finally reached the boys. And the second we stopped moving, my legs locked again, and my weight pulled me to my knees. Brittany dropped down with me, wrapped her arms around my waist, and lifted me back up to stand. "Just stand for one more second honey." Brittany gasped through her shallow breaths.

Rachel leg go of my arm and started to kick around dirt with Puck. "It should be right here!" Rachel hissed and started to slap the dirt around with her palms.

Quinn limped from behind. I watched her slow her pace, clench her thigh, and start to scan the ground. Her face was filled with horror. It looked like she had seen a ghost.

"Right here guys!" Quinn announced and limped towards the left. She dropped down to her knees and started to pull dried weeds from the ground.

Rachel crawled towards her and Puck sprinted towards her. They all started to move the dirt.

"What's going on?" I looked over my shoulder and tried to find the cabin. But it wasn't there. We'd run too far. All I could see were thick trees and heavy shrubs. When I looked back Puck was pulling a metal grate from the ground.

Quinn and Rachel grabbed the grate and helped him drag it to the side.

A small hole opened up in the ground.

Puck looked around. "Ladies first." He nodded for Quinn to hop in.

"As soon as we get in," she looked at Rachel, "hand Artie down."

Artie looked back at Brittany and me.

"It's about an eight foot drop Quinn. Land on your good leg." Puck instructed as Quinn swung her legs into the hole.

She nodded, and within seconds slipped into the hole. An _umph _slipped up from the ground along with a soft splash. "All right, Rachel there's water. Jump down."

Rachel swung her legs into the hole and slipped down with grace.

"Santana should go first." Artie said. "And Brittany."

Before I could respond, Brittany was starting to drag me towards the hole. Puck shot up and grabbed onto my free arm.

"'Kay Santana. Quinn and Rachel will catch you." Puck spoke into the side of my face. Both he and Brittany guided me down to the ground. I winced as my legs tightened back up. "Just put your legs in." Puck told me, but instead he grabbed my ankles and moved my legs for me.

Pained tears spilled down my face. Why did my legs have to do this now?

"You girls ready?" Puck called down to them.

I looked in the hole. I couldn't see anything, until a hand grazed up the back of my calf. "It's all right Santana. Quinn and I will catch you." Rachel called up.

"She was having trouble putting weight on her legs." Brittany explained to Puck.

"That's fine," he scooted closer to me. "Santana they're going to catch you. Okay." Puck said.

I nodded and scooted closer to the hole, until I nearly fell in.

That deafening hiss that had just filled the cabin, screamed through the trees. I jerked to look behind us. The ground vibrated, but I couldn't see it yet.

"Go now!" Puck urged me forward.

I tucked my elbows and slipped in. Two sets of hands caught my hips as my feet slapped hard into the ground. My knees buckled and I fell forward onto my wrists. The impact was softened as both Quinn and Rachel halfway caught me.

With my elbows on the ground, warm water swallowed my arms. I crawled away from the hole, knowing someone else was going to need to come in. Quinn lifted me off my hands and sat down with me in the water. My legs were burning. Screaming. Begging me to fix them.

I looked up to the opening. Looking here from the inside, it was a lot brighter. Moments before, when I'd been preparing to jump in, I couldn't see anything. Just blackness.

Brittany slipped in and landed without a problem. Puck helped Artie adjust his legs and lowered him down to Brittany and Rachel, who grunted under his weight, since Puck wasn't able to lower him far enough.

Puck jumped in, splashing water on me.

The ground shook above us. The thing was so close now. Could it reach in here? Could it cave in the ground? The little ones could definitely get in. No problem.

We all waited in silence. Everyone held their breath. And I tried not to make a noise as my legs were shattering in pain.

The vibrations above us slowed.

Puck said something to Brittany, but I was too focused on keeping myself quiet that I couldn't hear it. He crouched down, Brittany straddled his shoulders, and he carefully stood with the new weight added. She reached up through the hole and grabbed the edge of the grate.

We all tensed, waiting for her to move it shut. All the muscles in her arms flexed and it took her only a few moments to pull the grate back over the hole.

Puck crouched down and she climbed off his shoulders.

"All right." He looked around at everyone. "We should be safe in here. There are drain tunnels like this all over the island. And I have no doubt the other guys found one of the other ones." He nodded and tried to assure himself. "Is everyone all right?"

"Yeah." Quinn answered. "I think we're fine for now."

"Okay. Rachel help me find the exit. It should be another drain against the wall. This room isn't very big, so it shouldn't take too long."

Rachel nodded and started to walk towards the opposite wall. Both of them were running their hands over the sides, searching for God knows what.

Quinn turned towards me. "Are you crying? Are you hurt?"

Brittany walked over and sat on the other side of me.

"What's wrong Santana?" Brittany whispered.

I couldn't answer. The cramping in my legs was stealing all my breath.

"Dude are you okay?" Puck turned around and looked at me.

I nodded.

"It's her legs." Artie spoke. He turned so he was facing us. "Massage her legs. You can see the muscles knotting. My legs used to do that all the time after P.T. When you don't use your legs for awhile, they do that."

"Massage them?" Brittany looked to Artie for confirmation.

"Yeah. Start low, since her calves are probably the worst." He nodded. "Push hard or the knots won't come out."

Quinn nodded and looked to me. "Is it okay if we do that?" Quinn asked.

I nodded. I didn't care at this point.

There hands dug into my legs. It felt as if they were using knives to twist and cut my muscles. I jerked at first. It hurt. But after a second, it began to feel better. Their hands easily loosened the muscles in my legs and my entire body softened.

"Yeah, and she should drink water too." Artie looked around. "Well, not this water, that'd be gross. When Tina gets here she has it." The way he said it, forced me to believe Tina was going to show up.

**xxxxxXX**

**A/N : aye curumba...let me know what you think.**


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